


1000 Papercuts

by thekellinunderthevic (orphan_account)



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thekellinunderthevic





	1000 Papercuts

The thing about relationships is that you completely and willingly let someone into your life, with the trust that they aren't going to hurt you. You let them get so close to you with all of your vulnerabilities, your insecurities and your flaws. They make you feel like you're the most important person in the world. You're cared for. Someone out there thinks the world of you and can look past your faults to love you for you. They do anything they can to make you feel special and loved. You don't feel so alone. There will always be that one person...until there isn't. 

It's an overwhelming and daunting experience; going from feeling so wanted, to having it all ripped away from you so you're left with nothing. Everything that made you happy in the world just gets taken away after one brief conversation. Just like a flick of a switch, the light in the darkness that you have held so dear is gone, but the most horrible thing about that is realizing they may have never cared or loved you in the first place. 

Now you feel like you're falling but you have no one there to catch you, just like me, right now, standing on the ledge of a train track just hours after the break-up. I was ready to fall back onto it the next time a train came along. Albeit I was drunk and on so many pills that my mind barely knew which way was up, but I was sure that this was what I wanted to do. I had thought about it beforehand and decided. I couldn't handle the complete anguish I felt after being left alone. I couldn't ever see myself feeling like I was actually important to someone else ever again. I felt like I was a piece of garbage that had been tossed away, and now I'll throw myself away. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath in before sighing as I heard the familiar sound of a train pulling into the station. It was late at night and there weren't many people here, but who would be paying attention to me? The teenagers across the other side of the platform who were all laughing and enjoying their youth like I should have been? The man and lady mere feet in front of me who were too involved in flirting with each other that they wouldn't even notice if I were to disappear? No. I would simply be a boy who gets a few words written about him in the local newspaper while everyone pretended to cry about how sad it was that I was gone. 

I wanted to be gone, and so I fell back, my body falling hard against the tracks, my mind finding temporary peace. 

— 

I was never the type of person to believe in the afterlife and that's why I was surprised when I woke up in a room. I saw a white ceiling past the dull light. A curtain closed me off from the outside world. What happened? I was scared to move at first. My body didn't feel right. My mind was clouded; more clouded than it usually was when I woke up. I felt fragile and like I should be in pain but something was blocking it. I felt numb. This was not a natural feeling. 

I thought I had died. I was supposed to be dead. That was the plan, wasn't it? That was my ticket out of here, but then I heard the regular beeping of a machine. I knew straight away it was a heart rate monitor. I was in a hospital. 

No, this wasn't right. I fell onto those tracks for a reason. I wanted to die, and like every other aspect of my life, I had failed. What would it take for me to finally get some peace? I wanted to cry, but I was too afraid to do anything because I didn't know what my body would do. I had no idea what happened. I jumped in front of a train, so how could I survive that? 

I stayed still in the hospital bed. I wasn't willing to move, or maybe I was unable to. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to call out for someone to come and tell me what was going on. I simply wanted to lay here and be as dead to the world as I possibly could be right now. I wasn't supposed to exist. 

I zoned out and I didn't know how long I was like that before I heard the door open. My heart rate quickened. That could be anyone for all I knew. I didn't bother turning my head. It didn't matter. 

"You're awake," a female voice that I didn't recognize said. My eyes flicked over to the person as they came into view. The lab coat they were wearing let me guess she was a doctor. 

"Mr. Quinn, do you know where you are?" she asked in a kind voice. Of course I did. It wasn't hard to put together. I tried nodding, but as soon as I did I felt a mixture of pain and dizziness. I quickly stopped all movements. 

"Try not to move too much. You took a nasty fall," she told me. I did. It was maybe eight feet from the platform to the train tracks. I couldn't remember feeling the impact. I couldn't remember anything after I fell. 

"Can you remember what happened?" she asked. I didn't say anything. The last thing I wanted to do was speak, so I didn't. I was closing myself off. I was shutting down. 

"Are you unable to speak, or are you just not speaking?" she asked. I kept my mouth shut, not even attempting to say anything, which gave the doctor an answer. 

"Are you going to talk to me at all?" she asked. Silence. 

"I'll take that as a no," she spoke and wrote something on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard, "I'll fill you in on what happened. Last night a couple saw you purposely fall in front of an oncoming train. They were quick to react and thankfully saved you just in time with the help of some teenagers. Your head took a hard hit and you were knocked out cold. Physically, you are okay. You do have a concussion, but brain scans show no abnormalities. You should just have a headache for a few days. We also had to pump your stomach because of the copious amounts of sleeping pills and alcohol you took beforehand, but again, you should recover well with some rest." 

The couple that was flirting with each other just a few feet away from me. That was who I had to condemn for ruining my plans, and the teenagers. I cursed myself for falling onto those tracks too soon. I shouldn't have given anyone enough time to save me. 'Save' wasn't a word I wanted to use. I wasn't saved. 

"You attempted suicide last night," she stated. She was trying to get a reaction out of me, but I simply felt nothing. 

"You're not going to respond at all?" she asked, and when I didn't reply, she sighed, "Alright, I'm going to get your psychologist." 

She left the room. I wasn't aware that I had a psychologist. Would I be forced to talk to them? I didn't need a psychologist. I needed to be gone. I feared of what would happen to me now, but mostly I didn't care what happened. I still wanted to die. 

Shortly after the doctor left, I heard more people come in the room. I felt like I could move a little bit now and looked towards the door. I saw a man I didn't know and my parents looking at me with heartbroken expressions. My parents were okay as far as parental duties go. They just weren't the loving type of people. I wouldn't exactly go to them to talk about my feelings because they weren't very open or comforting. That wasn't their fault. That was just how they were. 

"Kellin," my mom cooed, "What were you doing?" 

They wouldn't understand. They were normal people. They weren't exposed to things like this. It probably never crossed their mind. They had no idea what I was feeling. I suppose I should have felt ashamed for what I did, but I didn't. 

Murmurs. I could only hear murmurs surrounding me from my parents and psychologist. It was like there was a constant buzzing sound in my ears that stopped me from paying attention. I blocked everything out, but I did manage to catch one sentence. 

"First thing tomorrow you will be transferred to a mental health facility where you will be under suicide watch until the psychiatrist appointed to you deems you not a danger to yourself," he explained. It didn't matter where they sent me or for how long. Once I'm out, I'll finish what I started. 

— 

First floor; suicide watch. Smart. They can't have suicidal people jumping off of higher floors. I looked around at my surroundings. This felt much like the hospital. There was a lot of white and everything looked much too clean. There were corridors and rooms with closed doors everywhere. One finally opened and my new psychologist, Doctor Carlile, gestured for me to walk into what would be my room for however long they kept me here. 

I stepped inside with my parents. There wasn't much in here. There was a bed. That was all, and hardly that. There were just two single mattresses piled on top of each other. Perhaps the bed frame was a safety hazard for someone like me. There was a window too with bars on the outside. No doubt the glass was unbreakable. 

I turned around and noticed something on the door; a piece of paper. While my parents and Doctor Carlile talked amongst each other, I went over and read it. It was like the hospital chart in my hospital room last night. There were details about me. 

Name: Kellin Quinn. 

Age: 17. 

Status: Admitted for an attempt. 

Watch Type: Periodical- Acute risk. 

It was the watch type that interested me. They wouldn't be watching me 4/7. It would be at random times because they deemed me not an immediate risk to myself. That probably had something to do with my parents. I overheard part of their conversation with my psychologist last night. They said that this wasn't me. I was a happy child. It was out of character, so they assured the doctor I wouldn't do this again. They didn't know me too well though. Again, they were okay, normal parents, but they didn't really know me. They didn't know I was gay. They didn't even know I had a boyfriend or that we broke up. No one even knew why I did what I did. Of course, they asked me over and over again, but I hadn't said a single word to them. 

I had no idea how long I would be in here for, but it was probably going to be a while. They made me complete a lot of questionnaires about my mental health. All I had to do was tick the boxes rated from one to five based on how I was feeling and how I felt in certain situations. So I did, and I did it with honesty. They didn't like the results. 

"Get better soon," my father's voice tore my eyes away from the sheet of paper as I looked at him instead. He spoke the sentence as if it were so simple to just get better, as if I had the common cold. 

After a hug from my parents each, they were gone, just like that. I looked at Doctor Carlile. He smiled at me. I didn't smile back. 

"I'm going to take you on a tour. Follow me," he said and nodded his head towards the door. He walked out and I followed. This guy looked too young to be one of the head psychologists here. He was tall, really tall, especially compared to me, and he was slim with short, dark hair. 

We walked down one of the corridors together. I could hear people in rooms; talking, crying, or more so wailing. I wondered how many other people were admitted here. It was a center for the mental health of youth, so they'd all be around my age, or younger. 

I saw a few of the staff; possibly orderlies, volunteers or nurses. They all wore a light blue uniform consisting of long pants and a shirt; some short sleeved, some longer. My own clothes were white. Just white. They made me wear it. 

"These are the bathrooms," he said, stopping at an open door, "There are no locks on the doors, for obvious reasons. Communal showers. Mirrors are unbreakable so don't bother trying." 

I glanced inside, seeing quite a large bathroom with white tiled walls and floors. He kept walking and I followed him before he stopped at another room with a lot of tables and chairs. 

"This is the dining hall. You will come here for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You will be escorted by an orderly who will be appointed to you later today," he explained. The whole time I just listened. I figured this was important enough information to actually pay attention to. 

"This is my office," he said as we went further along, "You will attend once every second day for therapy." 

We kept going, stopping at another room. It was fairly spacious and there were a few tables and more color than the other rooms. 

"This is the recreation hall. You can find mild forms of entertainment here when you have nothing else to do. This is also where you will be at 10 o'clock every day that you don't have therapy with me, in order to participate in support groups," he told me. He turned and looked at me, not walking on any further. Was this the end of the tour? 

"Is there any chance of getting you to talk to me any time soon? A simple nod will do," he said. There was not a chance of that. Maybe it was because he was authority, or maybe it was because he was keeping me here, stopping me from doing what I wanted to do, but I didn't feel like talking to him, just like I didn't want to talk to any doctors or my parents. I didn't say anything. I just looked at him. 

"Okay. You currently have free time until dinner where a staff member will find you and take you. There are cameras everywhere watching over you, except for the bathroom and your own room for our privacy policy. The cameras are constantly monitored to prevent any incidences," he explained. Incidences. Like someone trying to kill themselves. 

"Bathrooms are consistently monitored by orderlies to ensure nothing happens, and someone will check on you in your room at irregular intervals. Do you understand?" he asked. Nothing was said. 

"I'll take that as a yes," he concluded, "If you need any help, there are various red emergency buttons in every room and through the halls. Please, only press one if there is an emergency and someone will be there to assist you." 

Me not saying anything left an air of awkwardness in between us, until the psychologist just walked past me, leaving me on my own, or as on my own as I could be with staff wondering the halls and the eyes past the cameras watching my every move. 

I didn't know what to do, so I ended up going into the recreation room which was currently void of people. I slowly walked around. There wasn't much in here. There were some board games; mostly chess and checkers. There were bean bags in the corner and some books piled up on the floor. I found a door over the far side of the room. It led to freedom, but it was locked. I looked outside. It was a nice, sunny day today. Usually I would enjoy it, but I wasn't the person I used to be. I felt like that person was dead. It was too bad I wasn't too. 

I sat on the floor with my back against a wall. I hugged my knees to my chest tightly. It was so quiet in here. It was so empty and silent. Just days earlier I was in my boyfriend's room, cuddling and kissing him. Now, here I was, alone and alive, but at the same time not alive at all. 

My breaths shortened. How did this happen? How did I go from so happy to not want to even exist anymore? I starting crying; sobbing; whining. I hadn't cried since it all happened, but here I was crying all by myself. I rested my head against my arms which were on my knees and let all of the emotions out. 

What was I going to do now? It was scary enough finding the courage to go through with killing myself in the first place. Now what? I'm still fucking here! I couldn't still be here, not in this world. What will I do? I could try again when I'm out, but what if I fail again and end up here? What if I never get it right? Maybe I could do it in here and soon, but how? Everything was safety proofed and I was monitored almost all the time. I couldn't do this anymore. I had to find a way to kill myself. I had to think of something; anything. I would find a way. 

I looked up and almost had a heart attack when I saw that someone was knelt down right in front of me; his face level with mine. My heart pounded heavily as I calmed down from being so startled. I didn't even see or hear the boy walk in. The boy, who looked to be around my age and Latino, looked at me, frowning with deep brown eyes.

"Your skin is too flawless for tear stains," he said, then reached forward and wiped away my tears. I was shocked and confused. Who was this person in my personal space? He smiled warmly while I sat there shaking. 

"Are you cold?" he asked. I slowly shook my head. I had calmed down now. My eyes were connected with his as he kept talking. 

"Why are you crying?" he asked. His voice was filled with pep. He was cheery, and in a place like this, how could he be cheery? 

"Not much of a talker?" he asked after I didn't say anything, "That's okay. I love talking. I can make up for the both of us. Why are you in here by yourself?" 

Why was I? What else was there to do here? I shrugged nervously. 

"I'm Vic," he said and extended his hand. I didn't take it. I just continued looking at him. 

"Okay then," he retracted his hand, "What's your name?" 

This guy had one of those 'in your face' personalities. He was talking to me like I was just another normal person. He was friendly and had a warm vibe about him, unlike everyone else I had encountered who were cold and distant. 

"Kellin," I told him. 

"That's a cute name. It's nice to meet you, Kellin," He said with a big smile on his face. I almost wanted to smile back. Almost. I was distracted when I heard footsteps coming closer. I looked behind Vic and through the glass windows that let us see from the recreation room into the hall, I saw Doctor Carlile. Vic turned his head and saw too. 

"Well, I better get back to work," he said. Work? He stood up and that's when I saw what he was wearing; the light blue uniform of the staff here. I assumed he was a patient, but I was wrong. He talked to me like an equal, and not like someone who needed professional help, which was why I spoke to him in the first place. 

He practically bounced out of the room, almost colliding with Doctor Carlile and they spoke before walking down the hall together. What a strange guy. 

Two loud knocks on the door startled me from my thoughts. Closed doors without locks for our bedrooms seemed to be the only form of privacy in this place. I guess I could be a very private person when I wanted to be, but most of all I liked being around people, or at least in the real world I did. I didn't know how I would feel in here. This building was filled with people, but in my mind I was still alone, because I knew that when I got out, I'd be alone again. Maybe that was just how it was supposed to be with me. 

Doctor Carlile came into the room, followed by someone who was a little shorter than him, but had the same colored hair and was lean. He had scruffy stubble in the form of a beard and wasn't wearing the staff clothing. 

"Hello, Kellin. How has your stay been so far?" Doctor Carlile asked. 

Uneventful. After my encounter with that strange person, Vic, in the cafeteria, I just wanted to be by myself, so I came back to my room, and that's where I was when these two interrupted me; sitting on my bed, staring blankly at the wall. 

"How are you?" Doctor Carlile prodded after not getting an answer. 

How was I? I was filled with dread knowing I'd probably have to wait until I got out of here to end my life. I was filled with longing to be in another world because I knew this one was not for me. I was heartbroken. It felt like that feeling would never leave me. I looked away from them and stared at the wall. 

"This is Jeremy, he's a therapist like me, but he runs the group sessions. I thought you'd like to meet each other before your first one tomorrow," he said. The other one, Jeremy, came over to the bed and knelt down in front of me, smiling. 

"Hi, Kellin. It's nice to meet you," he said. I blinked, unwaveringly, and stayed silent. 

"How old are you?" he asked. 

He could have read my chart. He could have asked Doctor Carlile, in fact I was sure Doctor Carlile probably told him how old I was beforehand. He was trying to engage in conversation. He was trying to make me talk. If I started talking then it'd lead to opening myself up to them and why would I let them in? 

The lack of uniform and warm smile didn't fool me. He was just another person doing this so he could get a paycheck at the end of the day. They didn't care. They had to talk to me. They had to try and make me "better". This wasn't voluntary kindness. I wouldn't fall for it. Perhaps I was being stubborn, but I didn't feel like a couple of strangers could pull me out of this. In fact, I thought it was downright rude that people who didn't know me thought that they knew what was best for me. The only person who knew what was best for me was myself and myself wants to be gone. 

"Okay, well, I'm sure we're gonna be friends," he gave up. He stood back up and went back over to Doctor Carlile. 

"Have a good night, Kellin," Doctor Carlile said, also giving up. Good, it was easier that way. I guess I just didn't want to give either of them the satisfaction of making me talk to them. I didn't want or need their help and I would take a stand; a silent stand. I was still bitter because I was being held here against my will. 

I sighed and rest my head against the wall. This place was supposed to make me "better", but honestly I thought would go insane from boredom. Right now I liked to be away from society. Right now it was better being shut away from life and away from the reality that my world had recently come crashing down around me. That was something I never wanted to face. 

"Knockity knock," a cheerful voice came from the now opened door a little while after the therapists had left. I looked over at the boy; the same one that I met earlier. It had been quite a few hours since I saw him. The sun had begun to gone down and I was beginning to feel a little bit tired. It had been an intense few days. 

"It's Vic, remember? We met in the rec room," he reminded me. I was good with names and faces, so I hadn't forgotten. I nodded slowly. It was hard not to be receptive of someone who seemed so full of light and happiness. I wondered how he did it. I could never be like that, even on my best days. 

"Right, well, I've been appointed your carer, escort...thingy. Lucky you. You get to bask in my amazing presence," he joked, at least I thought it was a joke. He came over and sat next to me. I gave him a confused look and he kept talking. 

"Every volunteer, that's me," he said and pointed to himself proudly, "Or orderly, nurse, whatever, gets assigned a patient or two to look out for." 

I just looked at him. He didn't seem like the others who were here to help. He spoke in a kind, friendly voice that wasn't forced or fake. He was younger too, a lot closer to my age. He seemed like just a normal person, but he wasn't. He worked here, at this place, just like they did. 

"So, you're like them?" I asked. 

"Who?" he questioned. I didn't say anything. I had a jolt of anxiety go through me when I did talk. Vic looked at me with a frown, then his face lit up when he realized what I was talking about. 

"Oh, no, no. I'm not a doctor. I'm not a professional. Heck, I don't even get paid because I'm just a volunteer. I'm simply a guy who is going to walk you from place to place and make you feel welcome. That's it," he explained. What kind of person wanted to come and work here without getting paid for it? It was so depressing here and I couldn't see the benefit of working with people like me. Perhaps he had too much time on his hands, or maybe he is one of the rare individuals that actually cares about strangers. 

I wouldn't really consider myself a good person in the real world. I kept to myself, or my friends and boyfriend, or I guess my ex now. The thought was too painful so I dismissed it quickly. I was the type of person to only really care about the people closest to me, yet here someone was who didn't even have to be in the same room as me, talking to me as if I was his equal, and not a project to be worked on like my doctors. 

"Come on, you'll be late for dinner," he said. I wasn't hungry. I didn't want to go anywhere. I looked at him, hoping he would just leave me be. 

"Um...it's six o'clock...Dinner. You have to go. It's the rules." He said. Rules. I wasn't too fond of rules, but this place had a system; a system that I couldn't step out of line of. I just had to go where I had to go and do what I had to do until they eventually give up and let me out. 

I got off the bed, earning a smile from Vic in the process and he led me out of the room. There were a few other people walking around; some patients, some not. Some were escorted by volunteers or nurses, and others weren't. 

"The food in here isn't that spectacular, but it's still okay, I think. As long as you have a full stomach then what does it even matter, right?" he asked. 

He didn't wait for an answer as he kept rambling on about the food, the dining hall, and the processes of the cafeteria area. There was a method that I didn't really pay attention to. I just followed what he told me to do and found myself sitting at a table with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a spoon in front of me. I looked at the food that I didn't even want to touch, then looked at Vic. He wasn't eating. I didn't expect him to. He would go home to his house and make himself something that was actually worth eating. 

"Why aren't you eating?" he asked. He was different to the doctors here, I had already established that, and he was getting nothing out of talking to me. I didn't feel like I was being put under a microscope and analyzed when he was around, so I felt safer to talk. 

"Not hungry," I said simply. 

"Yeah, I get it. This place can make people lose their appetite. It's not exactly a warm environment, but it could be worse, you know. This one time I was volunteering at a place where they would feed you nothing but water and leek soup, every single night for dinner, but I mean at least you get a choice of soup, and you even get bread sometimes. I know it's not exactly a filling meal, but they have to keep it simple and can't give you any knives or forks because, well, ya know, so they keep it easy. They keep it simple, you know?" he spoke so quickly. He wasn't lying when he said he liked to talk. 

"So, you're not gonna eat?" he asked. I shook my head. He was right, this place made me lose my appetite. 

"That's okay, I guess," he continued on, "As long as you eat breakfast in the morning, okay? Do you like cereal? I like cereal. I could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day without getting bored. This one time my parents left me alone for a week and all I had was cereal because that's all we had in the cupboards, but that was okay because I like cereal. What's your favorite cereal?" 

I blinked a few times, taking the time to process what he had said. He spoke so quickly. His train of thought effortlessly jumped from one thing to another. The cheeriness in his voice was kind of refreshing though, even if it was the complete opposite to my mood. I shrugged at his question. 

"I like anything with loops. They have it all here. You should have it tomorrow." He suggested. I nodded slowly. 

Apparently I had to stay in the dining hall for at least half an hour, and during that time Vic filled the silence with his chattering about topics that didn't matter. Nothing really mattered to me anymore. Eventually he told me I was allowed to leave and he disposed of my uneaten dinner for me, then we walked out into the main hallway. He turned to me and started speaking. 

"Okay, so shower time is always after or before dinner. Since you didn't go before, it'll be after for you today. Come on," he said and led me down the hall again. I noticed we walked straight past the showers, but I didn't say anything. He brought me back to my room. 

"Ah, perfect. Your things are here," he said. 

I looked past him and sure enough on my bed was a couple of changes of clothes. They all looked exactly the same; plain white. There was also a towel and a pair of flip flops for the showers. He handed me the towel and a change of clothes. I took off the shoes that looked more like slippers, along with my socks, and put on the flip flops instead. He then told me to follow him again, so we went back into the hall. 

"There's a laundry chute in the bathroom so you can throw your dirty clothes in there. Don't worry, they won't get mixed up with anyone else's because your name is on the tag," he explained. I looked down at the clothes in my hands and sure enough I saw 'Kellin Quinn' written on them. We stopped outside the showers. I could hear the water running from outside the closed door. 

"Showers are communal and there will be a guard watching. I know, it kind of sounds like a prison sometimes, but they're just looking out for you. Anyway, all you have to do is go in, pick a stall, shower, dry off, get dressed. Towels and, like I said, dirty clothes, go down the laundry chute," he explained. I just nodded. That seemed simple enough. 

I turned to the door and opened it. I was kind of expecting to see a bunch of naked people, which would have made me feel completely uncomfortable, but instead I saw that there were a dozen stalls, and each one was covered with a curtain that was blurred, so the guard would be able to see us, but not actually see us properly. I walked past the one male worker who was leant against the counter, his eyes scanning over each and every stall, then found one for myself. 

As I showered I felt sort of uncomfortable knowing that someone could, in the least, see my outline. I was an introverted person, clearly. I showered as quickly as possible before drying and, like Vic told me to do, threw my clothes into the laundry chute. I went back into the hall and was surprised to see Vic waited for me. All that was left was to go back to my room, which was only a few doors away. 

"I could have gotten back to my room on my own," I spoke quietly. 

"I don't doubt that you could have, but rules are rules. If you stick around for a bit longer you'll be able to do things on your own. Hopefully for your sake you'll be out soon," he said. I restrained from rolling my eyes. He thinks it'll be a good thing if I get released, and in a way it was, but not in the way that he thinks. The quicker I get released. The quicker I could end it all. 

We got back to my room and stopped at the door, turning to face each other. Was I supposed to thank him? He was probably eager to get home. It was getting late after all. I wondered what hours he worked. Would he be here with me every day? Would he be here from morning? Or would I be appointed someone else when he wasn't? 

"I hope you sleep well," he said kindly. I nodded. He smiled, then unexpectedly pulled me into a hug. I was frozen and unsure of what to do. Was hugging patients regulation? When he pulled back I just looked at him with a blank expression. 

"I've heard that people need at least a little bit of human contact every day to be happy, so..." he shrugged with a smile. I just nodded. 

"Anyway, goodnight! I'll see you tomorrow," he said brightly. Again, I nodded, and I attempted to smile but nothing came of it. Vic waited for me to go into my room before he shut the door behind me. I saw him wave through the window in the door before he left, probably going home to a warm and loving family, or a girlfriend or boyfriend, while I stayed in here, alone. 

I flicked the flip flops off and crawled onto my new bed, laying down. It wasn't the comfiest of beds, but I guessed it would do. I had a pillow, but didn't have any sheets. I supposed that was a suicide risk. They wouldn't give people the opportunity to make themselves a noose. It was kind of cold in here, but I could feel the heating coming through the vents, so hopefully that would warm me up soon. Until then, I curled up into a ball, waiting for sleep. 

I survived my first day in suicide watch and woke up the next morning feeling sombre. Sometimes people tell me that if I sleep then I'll wake up feeling better, or in the least, different. They say my problems will seem like they're a world's away, but I didn't feel any different. My opinions hadn't changed. My heart still hurt. I still didn't want to be here or anywhere. I laid in bed for a while wondering just how long I would be kept in here. I wasn't given a time period. Perhaps I would ask my new companion, Vic. 

It turned out my question would be kept at bay because Vic didn't come to my room this morning. Instead, I was greeted by a woman with dirty blonde hair and probably in her early thirties. I didn't catch her name because she never told me. She took me to breakfast and waited nearby impatiently while I silently ate some cereal. My appetite was still lost, but my stomach was begging me to fill it with something, so I forced it down. 

The woman seemed completely disinterested in me. It was obvious that she was simply doing this because it was her job. She probably wanted to deal with something more important than baby-sitting. Through the awkward silence I had to admit that part of me wanted Vic to be supervising me. He had an air of casualty about him. He filled the silence and I got the feeling that he actually wanted to be here, like he enjoyed talking to me, or talking in general. I wasn't surprised that he wasn't here though. He had been here fairly late last night so I didn't expect him to be in early. I'm sure he had an actual life to live that didn't include dealing with a depressed teenager like myself. 

After breakfast the lady dropped me off at the rec room without so much as a word. I looked around the hall, wondering if someone would come and tell me what I was supposed to do. Peering into the room I saw a circle of chairs. Most of them were taken up by people wearing the same clothes that I was. One of them was occupied by a man I had met yesterday, but couldn't remember the name of, but what I did remember was that he was the group therapist. That would explain the entire set-up. Today was group therapy day. 

"Ah, Kellin. It's nice to see you," the therapist said. I stood at the door, contemplating how much trouble I would be in if I turned around and walked in the opposite direction 

"I don't know if you remember, but my name is Jeremy. You're a little bit late, but that's alright. Why don't you take a seat?" He said. I sighed deeply before slowly making my way across the room to one of the vacant seats. Everyone in the room looked like they were teenagers except for the therapist. I wondered how long each of them had been here for. Some of them were looking around nervously which made me think maybe they were new. A few others looked bored, and maybe even casual like they were used to it, so maybe they had been here longer. 

"Okay, so, where were we...Jenna, would you like to share with the group why you're here, if you want?" Jeremy asked kindly. I followed Jeremy's gaze and saw him looking at a girl with blonde hair and bright, sparkling eyes. I wondered what her deal was. She looked too beautiful to be in a place like this. She looked like the type of girl who had everything she wanted in life, or at least access to it. 

"Um..." she started then let out a shaky breath. 

"It's okay, take your time," Jeremy said. The girl looked around at the group with a frown. 

"Uh...I just, I don't know, I just kept hurting people, like people I love. I'd make them disappointed in me or I'd do something ruin things over and over again. It's like I couldn't stop myself from doing it, and I didn't mean to..." she trailed off. Everyone stayed silent as she recollected her thoughts. It was intense in here. I felt uncomfortable. I couldn't see myself opening up to these strangers like she was. 

"So many people were hurt by me, so I started hurting myself, like physically," she said. She folded her arms, hiding the bandages around her wrists before continuing, "One day I went too far and now I'm here." 

Between my sorrow and bitterness for being here, I felt a pang of guilt for my previous sentiments about her. I guess you can't judge a book by its cover. 

"Mhmm, and I know there are many people in this room that went through the same kind of thing," Jeremy spoke. There was a round of nods from group, "Jenna, you say you went too far, does that mean you didn't mean to do it? That you didn't mean to go as far as you did?" 

I looked at Jenna who had her eyes to the floor as she shrugged, but nodded at the same time. 

"Hands up, who regrets what they did to themselves?" Jeremy asked. 

Everyone put their hands up; everyone except for myself. Was I really that different from all of them? They regretted it, but the only thing I regretted was not succeeding. I suddenly felt so ousted. I thought that maybe there would be a lot of people in here just like me, but perhaps not. The guy next to me leant in closer. 

"You're supposed to just agree. That way they'll think you're not crazy and let you out sooner," the boy whispered. 

"Hey, Justin, no whispering in group therapy please," Jeremy said before turning to the rest of the group, "Okay, so, as we can see here, a lot of people have had second thoughts, so what you're feeling is completely normal and I can assure you all patients who leave here regret what they did too. They put their hand up too and they overcame the regret. They overcame what they did to themselves and you can too. The proof is right here. Look around you, look at the person next to you, each one of you can get better and realizing that what you did to yourselves was not the best solution is just the first step to getting better." 

I rolled my eyes at the positive hippy bullshit. Jeremy can't talk for everyone. How is he supposed to know how we feel or what's going to happen in the future? He doesn't. He can't generalize all of us like that. I noticed Jeremy watching me when I rolled my eyes. 

"Kellin, you disagree?" he asked. I didn't say a thing. This whole thing was ridiculous. 

"You didn't raise your hand just now, so that means you stand by your decision to try and take your own life?" he asked. Silence. There was nothing but silence in the room. All eyes were on me. That was another reason I wasn't talking. I wasn't going to let another fifteen strangers know personal information about me. 

"Do you want to do it again?" he asked. Yes. 

"Do you want to just tell the group why you're here? Or even something about yourself?" he asked. I could tell by his tone that he was giving up. Good. 

"Okay, well, maybe next time then. Who else would like to share with the group? Jeremy asked. 

After that, I didn't listen too much to the rest of the conversations. I got the feeling that some people were annoyed that I didn't talk. Maybe that was out of the ordinary here. Surely there were others who wouldn't fall for the fakeness of the place. Did they really think that the therapists would give a damn about us if they didn't get a paycheck at the end of the week? 

The session went for about an hour and I was dying of boredom. I was too preoccupied with what was going on in my head. How was I supposed to listen and support these other people when I couldn't even deal with my own problems? Perhaps that made me selfish, but there was nothing I could do about it. 

Finally, it was over. Hopefully I would get out of here before having to endure too many more sessions. Maybe that Justin guy was right. Maybe I had to cave in and pretend that I'm okay. My stubbornness didn't want give the staff here the satisfaction of "curing" me though. I would just keep to myself for now. They'll have to give up and let me out sometime. They can't keep me in here forever. 

I walked out of the rec room only to find Vic standing there, leaning against a wall. I looked around nervously. None of the others had people watching over them. I guess they weren't as new as I was. 

"Hey there, did you have a good session?" Vic asked. I shrugged carelessly. "I guess they aren't for everyone." He added on. I nodded. 

"So d-" 

"Hey, hey you," someone interrupted him. I turned and saw the guy from earlier, Justin, looking at me. I gave him a curious look. 

"You stood up to them!" he exclaimed, "You actually stood up to them." 

"You can do it, you know. You're already one step closer. You won't let them brainwash you into thinking everything is okay. You can do it for all of us," he said. He was practically beaming. The way he talked with such enthusiasm had me feeling a little bit intimidated. I looked at Vic nervously. He had the same confused expression that I probably had. 

"You're a prodigy. You can show them. You can finish it, you can finish it for all of us. If you kill yourself in here that's proof we all can," he spoke quickly. I was shocked and appalled at his words. To me it was like it was okay to want to hurt myself, but a complete stranger telling me to left me stunned. 

"Hey! That's enough," Vic said, stepping forward. Other people; staff and patients, were watching this person talk 

"No you don't get it. They're trying to suppress us! You stood up to them, Kellin. Show them they're wrong!" Justin shouted. He wanted me to kill myself to prove a point? I guess that made two of us. Jeremy was quick to intervene when he realized what was going on. 

"Justin, come with me." He said calmly and took him by the arm. The boy wouldn't go silently though. He lurched forward towards me and Jeremy was forced to grab him and pull him back. Another staff member helped him and I stood there with wide eyes as the dragged the struggling boy down the hall. 

"You can't keep me here any longer!" Justin screamed, "I have rights! Show them they're wrong, kid! Show them!" 

I didn't know what to do or say. Justin was clearly unstable, more so than myself, and probably more so than the other patients standing around. Jeremy and the other staff member took him through another door; one that I hadn't been through before. 

"Okay everyone, back to your rooms. No dawdling," one of the female staff members said. The crowd dissipated and I was left with Vic who looked at me. 

"Are you okay?" he asked me. 

I nodded quickly. What came next? The lecture that Justin was wrong? Was he going to convince me not to do what he said? I didn't even think it was possible to kill myself in here. There was no way to do so. 

"Good," he said simply. What, no lecture? No reassuring me that everything would be okay? That's what my parents did every time something went wrong. It's what I would expect Jeremy or Carlile to say, but Vic didn't make me endure that. 

"Where did they take him?" I asked. I pointed to the door that Justin had disappeared through. 

"The intensive unit. It's where people who are at an immediate risk to themselves stay, and people who might be a danger to others, like he was to you just then," he explained. I didn't know there were different units. I had tried to kill myself, so why wasn't I in the intensive unit? 

"So...where am I?" I asked quietly. 

"General patients. It means your therapist doesn't think you're going to go to extra lengths to hurt yourself or others," he said. I suppose that was true. I found myself not wanting to kill myself while I was in here. When I do it, it'll be on the outside on my own terms. Then again, what if I were to have a breakdown like Justin just did? Would I be taken away like he was? 

"What's it like in there?" I asked. 

"Horrible...there's always people crying and screaming to be let out. The staff lunch room is down that hall. It's...just count yourself lucky that you're in here and not in there," he said. I didn't want to go in there. "Intensive" sounded so scary. 

"Don't worry," he said brightly, "As long as you keep your cool, they'll keep you in here, and the others stay in there where they can't hurt anyone." 

I simply nodded. I could keep my cool, I think. At least I was sure I wasn't at the point of having a breakdown and telling someone to kill themselves. I wouldn't wish the feeling upon anyone. 

Vic and I walked back towards my room and, of course, he chattered away. 

"Sorry I wasn't in here this morning. I was like busy and stuff. I am most mornings but it's okay, like, I can hang out and show you around for the afternoons. It's almost lunch time too. Do you want lunch?" he asked. I shook my head, no. 

"Did you have breakfast?" he asked. I nodded. 

"Cereal?" he questioned, and I nodded again. 

"Delicious, right?" he asked, but I just shrugged. We got to my room and I turned to the chatter box who was rocking back and forth on his heels. Now what? 

"I guess...I'll see you later." I said quietly. 

"Oooh, I know that voice," he said in a teasing tone. I frowned at him, completely unaware of what he was talking about. 

"That's like an 'I don't wanna be alone' voice," he said. He was wrong. I liked being alone, sometimes, but maybe, just maybe I liked his company in this place because he made me feel normal. That didn't mean I didn't want to be alone though. 

"I don't care about being alone. I like the quiet," I said, but I was even unsure of my statement. I felt uncomfortable so I left him at the door and went into my room. I sat on the bed cross-legged, leaning against the wall and staring at the opposite one. Vic came over and sat down next to me. I looked at him. 

"Sometimes I like sitting in silence too," he said casually. 'Vic' and 'silence' were two words that I wouldn't put together, but I would give him the benefit of the doubt. I looked forward again and we both sat there, not saying a single word. 

I woke up the next morning with an intense urge to physically damage myself in any way. I was so used to waking up, picking up my phone and seeing a text from my boyfriend saying 'good morning' or 'I love you', but now I was waking up to nothing but a silent, cold, empty room, only I was quick to find that I wasn't so alone. 

"You slept right through breakfast," a voice came from nowhere, startling me. I sat up in bed and my first intention was to scramble back further against the wall. I let out a deep breath and relaxed when I saw Vic sitting on the floor, flipping through a magazine. 

"Good morning," he said with a bright smile. Clearly he was oblivious to my sudden panic. 

"Don't do this ever again," I told him. I didn't make myself sound angry. I could barely bring any emotion to my voice. He frowned and put the magazine down before crawling towards my bed and sitting there on his knees. 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I mean, I'm not sitting here in a creepy way. I came in to get you to go to breakfast but I tried waking you, but you wouldn't budge and you looked so peaceful so I just kind of kept you there. And I couldn't leave your room by myself because Doctor Carlile would be like 'Victor, where's Kellin?' and I'd be like 'I let him sleep' and then I'd be in trouble, but if I stayed in here then, I don't know, no one would notice, which they didn't. I was going to wake you soon anyway because you have an appointment with Doctor Carlile," he said and honestly I only took in about half of what he said. He was much too intense for this early in the morning. I just nodded, pretending I knew what was going on. 

I lay down on the bed again to get rid of my sudden headache. This place was starting to make me feel sick, but not really physically sick. It was hard to pinpoint the exact emotion. All I knew was that I felt like my spirit was being broken down even more than it already was, which was strange because so far nothing had really happened here. 

"Sorry for scaring you, really, I'm sorry," he apologized again. 

"It's okay," I said nonchalantly as I stared at the roof. I took a few deep breaths. It sucked when I wanted to do something and this place was stopping me from doing it. I should have the right to end this. 

"Don't do that," Vic said and put his hands over mine. I had been absent-mindedly scratching at my wrists, leaving behind red marks. I looked down at his hands covering mine before he let go of them and spoke, "They check you for scratches and will move you to intensive if they find any." 

I certainly didn't want that. It just meant I would be in here longer than I wanted to be, so I stopped my careless behavior. Why would he warn me like that? Wasn't it his job to watch over me and tell someone if I did something reckless? It was nice to have someone on my side, I guess. 

"I wouldn't want my favorite patient to get moved, now would I?" he questioned. I felt my cheeks heat up. I was his favorite? I barely even spoke to him. I couldn't imagine I'd be that much of a delight to be around. He was just being too nice to me. It was simply in his nature. 

"Anyway, I have to take you to Doctor Carlile now. It's almost ten, so get up, change into your day clothes and we'll go. I'll wait outside," he said. He didn't give me a chance to respond or protest. He just went outside and closed the door. 

I sighed and got out of bed. I figured the sooner I got there, the sooner I could leave. I got changed into the day clothes and met Vic in the hallway. 

"Bathroom," I muttered. 

"Sure, of course. Let's go," he said and led me down the hall, "So how did you sleep?" 

I shrugged, not saying anything. We stopped at the bathrooms and he waited for me outside while I did my business, then found my toiletries bag which they made us keep in here. I found the one with my name on it and brushed my teeth before meeting Vic again. I could probably go from place to place by myself, but there was something about having some sort of companionship with Vic that was comforting in here. 

He took me to Reynold's room and we stood outside the door. I really didn't want to go in there. I looked at the name in black, cursive writing on the door with a worried expression. 

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. It'll be over before you know it. I'll be waiting when you get out in half an hour, okay?" he asked. I looked at him and nodded. I sighed, turned to the door and knocked on it. 

"Come in," Reynold's familiar voice called out. I went into the room and shut the door behind me, leaving Vic in the hallway. 

"Kellin, take a seat," Carlile said and gestured to the seat straight across from his own. He was sitting behind a large, wooden desk. The desk looked very neat and organized. He had a laptop to one side and a pile of papers stacked on the other, with his pens lined up neatly in front of him. The room wasn't white like most of the rest of the rooms were. His walls were a light grey and there were bookshelves lining them, alone with framed certificates showing off his medical credentials. I went and sat in the comfortable, leather chair across from him. 

"How has your day been so far?" he asked. My stubborn nature and belief that he couldn't help me was still shining through and I kept my mouth clamped shut. 

"This is our first session together, and might be one of many, so I'd really like for us to come to some sort of common ground, which would be a lot easier if you could talk to me, please," he requested. His tone was so professional and cold. He leant back in his chair, rested his elbows on the armrests and twined his fingers together as he examined my face for any type of emotion. After I didn't speak, he spoke up again. 

"I think that you will feel better if you open up and share your problems with me," he said. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that comment. How could one person, a stranger, make me feel better? 

"It does help," he continued, "Talking about it will let you get things off your chest and I can help you sift through your feelings, including ones that you might not understand or confuse you." 

I wasn't confused, not in the slightest. I knew exactly how I felt and I knew exactly what I wanted. He was the one who was confused. He had no clue what he was talking about. 

"I can't even begin to help you if you don't tell me why you tried to kill yourself, Kellin. As far as I know, you haven't spoken to anyone about this. It's really unhealthy to keep it bottled up inside," He said. I averted my eyes and looked at my lap. I wished he would just stop talking already, but I had no such luck. 

"You're probably wondering how I can help you. Well, I can teach you different skills in coping with whatever's going on in your life. I can teach you acceptance, and I can teach you ways of solving your problems. You may not believe it now, but I can help you get better. You don't have to do it on your own," he explained. 

Bullshit. It was all complete bullshit. I didn't want or need his help. I sat there in silence, gritting my teeth.

"I get it, you don't want to talk, but you deserve my attention and we'll finish our half an hour in silence if we have to," he said. Great. I was sure there were better things he could have done with his time. 

I crossed my arms over my chest and relaxed in the chair. He was looking at me the whole time and I could see him out of the corner of my eyes, but I kept my gaze on everything except him. I ended up staring at the clock, watching the thirty minutes tick away at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually though, I saw the clock hit 10:0. The session had come to an end. I looked up at Carlile, waiting for him to excuse me. 

"I get the feeling that you don't let people in very often, and it leaves me to wonder who hurt you that made you not trust people," he said. 

His words were resonating in my mind. What he said triggered all sorts of memories. I remember a little while ago I used to be kind of a loner at school. I didn't really have friends and that had been okay with me. Having no friends meant that I wasn't used to getting close to people, especially since my parents weren't exactly the loving type. I had been closed off from my emotions and barely even knew it. I had just naturally progressed that way, but then along came Matty. 

Matty had been amazing. He let me into his group of friends and I felt wanted by all of them, especially him. He helped me figure out my sexuality and I fell for him pretty hard. He helped me break down my walls and I let him in on everything about me. Every little emotion and thought, he would know about. I trusted him with everything. For two years we had this inseparable bond and he meant the world to me. We talked about being together forever. We had our whole lives planned out, then with no warning he just ended it, claiming that his feelings had changed. Over time he fell out of love with me, and why? I didn't know. I didn't know what I did wrong. 

So, just like that, this ray of sunshine in my life disappeared. I trusted Matty with all of my heart, but he took that trust and stomped all over it. He tore my insides to shreds and walked away, leaving me with no answers or closure. 

Now, I sat in a therapy office on the brink of tears as I thought about who I had lost, and the life that I wanted which had been thrown away. I sat there with tears begging to escape, but I held it together, breathing in and out deeply. 

 

"Okay, you can go," Carlile finally said. I leapt from the chair and rushed out of his room, slamming the door behind me. Vic was there, as promised, but I didn't want to be around his usually happiness right now. 

 

"Hey, how di-," he stopped the second he saw me. Tears had begun spilling from my eyes and I was quick to push past him and walk down the hall. I was going back to my room before I broke down anymore and caused a somewhat public scene. I practically ran into my room, sat on the bed and cried because I couldn't hold it in. I didn't want to cry but I had to let it out. I couldn't stop the breakdown. 

It just hurt so much. All of the emotions from the night he broke up with me were hitting me at full force. It was a horrible reminder. This was why I wanted to kill myself, so I never had to feel this way again. What kind of life was a human life if we're capable of feeling like this? 

I cried for a long time until I couldn't cry anymore. I reached the point where I felt too numb to cry. My eyes were dry and my sobbing stopped. I looked around the room, squinting at the little bit of light after having my hands covering my face for so long. 

I noticed movement from near the door and saw Vic poking his head around the corner. The second he saw me looking back he disappeared again. God, he was weird. A few seconds later he looked around again, and when I didn't tell him to go away, he came inside then knelt in front of me. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. 

"No," I told him and shook my head. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked 

"No," I said again. For a few moments there was nothing but silence as we looked at each other, then his face brightened. 

"Do you want to make origami?" he asked. 

"What?" I asked in confusion. The suggestion was so random. 

"Well there's not much that you can do around here during free time, like you can read a book or play a board game, but I found this origami kit the other day and I used to do it a lot with my mom and I don't know, it was cool, come on," he said and didn't wait for an answer before taking my hand and pulling me off the bed. I didn't have much of a chance to protest, nor did I have the energy to, so even though I didn't feel like doing anything, I allowed myself to be dragged along by him. 

He took me into the recreation room. There were a few people scattered throughout the place, either playing board games with each other, or reading books. Of course, the place was supervised by a couple of staff members. 

"Sit," Vic said when he led me to a table, so I sat. He left me to go to one of the bookshelves, and he came back with a book. When he laid it on the table I saw written on the front 'Origami for kids'. 

"I know, it's a kid's book, but you might find something cool in there to make. Do you know how to make anything?" he asked. I shrugged. I sort of did. I used to fold paper into different shapes or objects to send notes around the classroom at school, so I knew a thing or two. 

"What color do you want?" he asked. He opened the book up and showed me the square pieces of paper that you had to rip out. I didn't say anything. I didn't really feel like doing this. 

"Come on, it'll take your mind off of things," he encouraged. I could see the eagerness written all over his face. He was difficult to say no to, so I reached forward and tore out a white square. 

"What are you going to make?" he asked. I shrugged. "Oh okay, I guess it'll be a surprise then. I like surprises." 

I watched him take out a blue square and start folding it without any guide from the book. I decided to make one of the only things that I knew how to, and started folding. He was quicker than me, a lot quicker. I felt like he was the type of guy to have three coffees and an energy drink all before ten in the morning. He was right though, this did take my mind off of things, sort of. 

I looked down at my finished product; a heart. I folded a white, paper heart. These were what I made when sending notes to Matty during school. My stomach fell and I tried to push away the memories. 

"You made a heart," he said cheerfully. I glanced at him then back to the heart in my hands. 

"It's stupid," I muttered and scrunched up the paper. 

"Wait, don't," he said and took it from me, "If you don't want it, I'll keep it." 

He smoothed out the crinkles, restoring the heart to what it once was, only it was still rumpled. 

 

"There, better," he said with a smile, "Wanna see what I made?" 

He held out what he had made. It was a flower. I knew he wouldn't give up until I took it, so I gently took the delicate paper flower from his fingertips and examined it. It was beautiful and really well made. 

"It's an Iris flower," he said with pride. I looked from the flower, then back up at his shining eyes. 

"Not just any Iris flower though, it's a blue one," he said. I gave him a questioning look. 

"Blue Iris' symbolize faith and hope," he explained. I nodded slowly and went to give it back, but he shook his head. 

"I made it for you, you keep it," he said softly. I looked back down at the flower and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of a genuine smile on my lips. 

I didn't know what was going on with Vic and I. He held my hand for so long, playing with my fingers and delicately rubbing his thumb along the soft surface of my skin. I didn't know what to think of it. It was calming, and peaceful, but at the same time my chest was tightening and I had the profound feeling of being homesick, but it wasn't exactly that. I couldn't quite decipher what that feeling was. 

"You missed lunch. I have to stop letting you skip meals," he said. 

"It's okay, I'm not hungry," I told him. More than anything I was simply content to be laying here on the ground with him. I didn't think I could feel this free in a place like this. 

"You're talking to me more," He commented. Was I? I guess that over time I was becoming more comfortable with him. After all, we were holding hands, but I didn't know what that meant. 

"We should probably go back inside before someone notices that we've been gone for too long," he said. The way he spoke was slow, dreamy even. That was just the atmosphere out here. It was like a completely different world. 

He sat up but didn't let go of my hand. He looked down at me with that usual friendly, soothing look. With a smile on his face he stood up and kept holding one hand while reaching out for the other. I hesitated before taking it and he pulled me up to his level. My chest knocked against his as I lost my balance and my heart leapt into my throat. I was nervous. I shouldn't be feeling nervous. Up until now, always thought of Vic as a friend, or a companion, but then he held my hand and for the first time I saw him in a different light. I found him attractive, desirable even. That's not to say those thoughts would lead to anything, because they were just thoughts in this one moment. I was confused. Maybe it was just the nice moment that had me suddenly see Vic like that. I quickly dropped my hands and walked off, trying to think of an excuse to get away from him so I could clear my head. 

—- 

Later that night I was a mess, and I wasn't even sure what triggered it. There was just a lot going on in my head from a lot of different places. So much had happened today and I think watching that boy try and kill himself really hit close to home and it wasn't until I was lying in bed that I really let the emotions get to me. 

It was always night time when my darkest thoughts came out to play. Maybe it was the silence leaving me alone to the depths of my mind, or maybe it was opening my eyes and seeing nothing but emptiness that reminded me of myself. 

It was hard to keep things in on this particular night. I could try all I wanted to be okay, to pretend that what's going on in my head wasn't that bad, but I couldn't, because that wouldn't be honest. Maybe it would have been easier to just pretend. That would mean that I would have been let out of here, but I knew that I would have cracked eventually. No one can pretend to be happy forever, so I never tried. I never pretended. I didn't see a point to it. 

I felt so alone in here. No one knew who I really was. They could make assumptions about me. Everyone could, but they didn't know what was going on inside. They didn't know how much I was hurting and maybe it would be better if I let it out, but they were my thoughts, not theirs. They're my problems. I am the one who has to deal with them and they couldn't help me with them, could they? 

These thoughts wouldn't leave my head. They were suffocating. I was curled on my side with tears streaming down my face. I felt sick, like the air was gone from my lungs. I felt anxious. My throat was tightening and the sobbing was starting to hurt. It was hard to breathe. I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't push the suicidal thoughts from my mind. It was like an addiction. I was addicted to feeding the pain and I wished that I had the strength to walk away from it, but I didn't. It's like I wanted it to get worse before it got better, if it got better. If I hit rock bottom, if I stayed on rock bottom then it wouldn't get any worse from there. There would be nowhere to go but up, or I could stay there and get used to the pain until I decided to end it. 

Sometimes I felt so stupid when I thought about what I did. I wanted to erase everything that's happened over the past couple of weeks and just start over, but I couldn't. Everything was still just there. The memories. The thoughts. The feelings. I couldn't shake it. When I thought the crying stopped, I would search my memory bank for more things to make me cry, and they all led back to Matty. 

I would remember how happy he made me feel and all of the good times we had with each other. I would think about all of the conversations we had together where he told me how much he cared about me and loved me. I would think back to when we were planning our future and how excited I was for it, but then I would think about how it was all a lie. I felt duped. Cheated. Fooled. You name it, I felt it. I knew that if all of these emotions weren't flooding my system then I would probably see how ridiculous it was to feel this way about the destruction of a relationship, but in this very moment, laying by myself in my cold room, alone, with tears running down my cheeks, I just couldn't see anything logically. Logic didn't matter. "It's not that bad" didn't matter. 

People I know, whether it be my parents, or doctors, would always give me words of endearment, encouragement. They tell me they love me. They tell me not to be sad. They tell me how I didn't deserve to feel this way, but I found no comfort out of those words. I shut them out because it's like the opinion of all of these people instantly got knocked back because of how sad I was. I couldn't bring myself to take on board anything that they said. The bad thoughts always, without a doubt, wouldn't let me accept the positive things people would say. I could get a million "stay alives" from everyone around me, and one "kill yourself" from myself, and I would do nothing but dwell on the latter. 

My crying was dying own after how long? A few minutes? An hour? I couldn't tell. What came next after the crying? It does stop. It stops but the pain is still there. My body felt numb and my head hurt. My heart ached. I felt like I would start up again at any second, but I didn't. 

There was a sense of calmness over me now, but I couldn't relax because I was scared. I was scared of the next time this would happen. I was scared of something, anything, jumping out of nowhere and triggering me into having a crying episode all over again. I just wanted my feelings, my heart, to be turned off and left alone forever. I wanted to be gone because then it wouldn't hurt. 

What was I supposed to do now? Go through the motions? Try and sleep? I was tired. I was really tired. At least I had stopped crying and my breathing was going back to normal. Maybe I felt envious of the boy who tried to kill himself today. I wanted to do what he did, but of course I wanted to succeed. If I had succeeded then I wouldn't be on this bed crying right now. Why couldn't they all see that that's why I wanted to kill myself? I wanted to stop feeling like everything was wrong. 

The other thing wrong with me was my complete and utter confusion about Vic. I felt something different for him today. I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me. He held my hand and I was mistaking it for something more. It was much too soon to have feelings for someone. Vic is an amazing human being. I hadn't ever met someone with such a kind and genuine soul. 

There was a nagging voice in the back of my head questioning whether I was actually starting to like him though. It would make sense, sort of. He was the person I was closest to in here, but then again it wouldn't make sense because I shouldn't be feeling these things. It was like I wasn't allowed. He was so sweet to me though. 

I sat up a little and slipped my hand into the pillow case. I stretched my fingers out until I felt the paper hidden away. I pulled out the blue iris that Vic had given me. I couldn't see it in the darkness, but I could feel it. I knew it was still perfect even though it now had many imperfections after being confined between the pillow, the case and the mattress. 

I had to hide it because I didn't know if it would get taken away from me for whatever reason. They seemed to leave us with little to nothing in here. Everything was a danger to them and I was sure they would find some sort of danger in the paper flower. I didn't see anything wrong with it though. I found comfort in it. Sometimes I would just stare at it, contemplating everything going on in my mind, just like I was now. 

It was really nice of Vic to give me this, and maybe that was why I was having confused feelings, because he was nice. I thought back to my ex-boyfriend and if he ever did anything sweet like this for me, and I concluded that he had. He had his sweet moments, although sometimes they didn't feel genuine, but he still tried. He had been perfect for me until he just wasn't. 

I was lost to my thoughts for the rest of the night until sleep finally saved me. 

—- 

The next morning I woke up and went to breakfast without Vic's company. Sometimes he didn't show up until a little later in the day, either just before therapy or around lunch time, then he's here until around the time I go off to bed. Other times it's the opposite and he's here when I wake up until sometime in the afternoon. I preferred when he was here into the night though because I liked having the company before I went to bed. It meant my thoughts wouldn't be so focused on the depression, and instead would be focused on whatever nonsense that came out of his mouth. 

I stayed in the dining hall a long time after breakfast ended. I was waiting for Vic, sort of. I didn't know if I wanted to talk to him right now or even be around him. The thought of him made me nervous. It never used to. I wished he hadn't held my hand, then I wouldn't have been having these thoughts. 

I eventually saw him walking along the hall through the windows. My hands were clasped together and I felt the sweat coming through them. My breathing shortened. He, as normal, saw me. He smiled brightly, just like every other day, and I stayed in my spot like usual as he made his way to me. 

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. I gave him a half-hearted smile. He sat next to me, not doing anything different to what he would usually do, but this time I was so aware of his closeness in proximity. 

"How are you this morning? It's a nice day today. Maybe we can hang out outside for a while again," he suggested. I panicked. 

"Don't you have other things to do here?" I asked. His smile faltered and he looked confused. He was like a puppy dog and I accidentally stood on his foot or something. I regretting blurting that out. 

"Um, well yeah, I guess I could. I mean, I don't really have any legitimate tasks that I'm supposed to do during my work day. I'm really just here to help out with whatever people need help with and I just...I mean, yeah, I can do something else if you want," he said quickly. He was rambling. It was very rare to see a side of him that wasn't happy, and right now I was getting disappointment. I felt so bad. 

"Uh, no, no what I meant was, I just don't want to get in the way of you doing other things here," I told him in uncertainty. It was a lie. I was just scared to be alone with him because of these feelings manifesting in me. He narrowed his eyes, still looking a little confused. 

"You're a terrible liar," he said, but then he smiled, "It's cool if you want me to leave you alone for awhile. I know I have a very full on personality sometimes so if you need a break from me then I can find something else to do. Sorry if I do get a bit smothering. I just kind of, I don't know, I guess I like hanging with you." 

I felt horrible. He was such a sweet guy, and when he said that he would find something else to do other than hang out with me, I felt myself not wanting that in the slightest. He was keeping me sane in here. Yes, I was confused about what I felt yesterday but I didn't want to hurt such a nice guy. 

"I like hanging out with you too. Forget I said anything," I told him. He gave me a skeptical look. 

"Okay..." He trailed off. Now it was awkward. I glanced up at the clock. It was a quarter to ten. 

"I have to go to Carlile' office now." I said. 

"Right, of course you do. I knew that. I just wanted to say hi before you went in there," he said. I nodded slowly then stood up, letting my chair screech back on the floor. 

"See you later," I said. He smiled brightly and I left him there. 

I exhaled deeply. That was a painful conversation. It was awkward. I knew these confused feelings would end up affecting how I was around him. I didn't know how to stop this. It wasn't right of me to have these thoughts, especially in this place. The thoughts were still on my mind when I got to Carlile's office. Although I was early, I still knocked on his door just in case. 

"Come in," he called out. I twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. He looked up and saw me there. His face mixed into one of surprise and confusion. 

"You're here early. That's a nice surprise," he said. I didn't say or do anything. He gestured to the chair across from him. 

"Luckily I don't have anyone right now so take a sea," he said, so I did, "Is there a particular reason you're here early? Or are you not going to speak like usual?" 

Just like every other time, there was nothing but silence coming from myself, and just like always, Carlile sighed and leant back in his chair, waiting for something to happen. This must have been frustrating for him, but he could end it by letting me leave if he wanted to, but he didn't. 

My mind shifted back to Vic. It made me feel anxious not knowing what to do about the whole situation. I literally had no clue. I looked at the doctor. He was a professional, right? He was supposed to know how the mind works and he was supposed to help people through how they felt. I gnawed on my bottom lip. My lips parted slightly, like I wanted to talk but was too scared to. I had been quiet for so long that it was difficult to speak up. I decided to make a deal with myself. I would ask one question, just one thing, and see what he has to say, and say nothing more. 

"I feel like..." I paused. Doctor Carlile' eyebrows raised in curiosity. I took a deep breath and continued, "I feel like I should be feeling one way but I'm starting to feel another and I don't know if that's okay." 

"Are these feelings progressing you in a positive direction?" he asked. I didn't know, so I shrugged. 

"Well, any feeling that is different to how you felt on the night you tried to kill yourself is a good thing," he concluded. I guess that feeling something different is good, maybe. He kept going, "Anything different to the numbness or hopelessness or depression that you may have been feeling is good for you." 

I nodded slowly. So far he was making sense. I wasn't quite sure though. I was here because I tried to kill myself because I felt like I was left with nothing after Matty left me, but now here I was developing confused feelings for another guy and that wasn't okay. I couldn't be heartbroken but interested in someone else at the same time. That just wasn't right, but there was this little spark with Vic that I was finding harder and harder to ignore. 

"Do you want to tell me what you're talking about here?" he asked. I shook my head and looked down at my lap, and that was the end of the conversation. 

Later that night there was still a little bit of awkwardness between Vic and I. After all, I had attempted to spend less time with him, but I quickly changed my mind about that. I actually liked spending time with him in here, and that surprised me because just a few days ago I never thought I'd be able to feel a tiny spark of joy again, and here I was, feeling comfortable and content with him sitting across from me at one of the tables in the dining hall. 

"It's nice to see you acting a little more normal, I mean after our conversation this morning," he said. That was true. Our conversation this evening, or mostly him talking to me, went a lot more smoothly, much like it had the past few days, excluding this morning. 

"I was just being silly then," I told him. 

 

"Yeah...why was that?" he asked curiously. He was always so full of curiosity and wanting to know everything. I shrugged in response. I definitely wasn't ready to tell him that I was confused about my feelings towards him. It was difficult to tell what emotions were real and what were artificial in here. I couldn't deny the warm feeling in my heart that I got when I talked to him though. 

"Doesn't matter anyway, as long as we're still friends," he spoke quietly, but with that bright smile on his face. I glanced around us. The last of the few people in the cafeteria were just leaving. I suppose Vic and I should be leaving soon too, but that meant I would be having a shower then going off to my room, and I didn't quite want to leave yet. 

I didn't say anything to him. I didn't feel the need to. The fact that I was sitting here with him was enough proof that I liked his company. He rested his chin on his hand and watched me. I felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, so I got up, taking my tray of half eaten food with me. I threw away the contents and put the tray with the others. I looked back over at Vic who was still watching my every move with a sense of intensity. When I sat back down, he spoke, and what he asked caught me off guard. 

"Why are you in this place?" he asked. It was something I had been asked by people around here many times before, but never wanted to answer and I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to answer it now or not. 

"Why are you?" I countered. He chuckled a little at me. 

"I have the time on my hands, so why not help someone?" he said. Were there really people that genuinely good in the world? 

"There are plenty of ways to help people, so why do it here?" I asked. Why in a place so depressing? Vic frowned at the question and shrugged a little. 

"I don't know..." He paused and thought about his answer, "I guess in my group of friends when I was in school, I was always the one to help them through their problems no matter what. I don't know what people saw in me that made them think that I could help, but apparently talking to me did help. I figured I had this natural talent of making people feel better, so why not put it to good use when I get the chance? And I like making people happy. I like making people smile and...yeah..." 

He was rambling and I didn't mind it one bit, but he noticed what he was doing and quickly stopped talking with a sheepish smile. His answer was as good an answer as any. I didn't expect anything more or less from him. 

"Your turn. Why are you here?" he urged me again. 

I didn't know if I wanted to tell him. I didn't know what he would think of me. Would this change how he saw me? Would he think I was just some stupid lovesick teenager who over-exaggerated about a break-up? That's what I knew everyone else would think if I told them. They didn't understand how I felt though. 

"Come on, I told you why I work here, it's only fair," he prodded. I looked up at him, my expression no doubt conveying the pain I was feeling about this topic. 

"Then again, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just curious," he retreated. It felt like it was bursting to get out of me. Not once had I spoken about what happened, and although it hurt to even think about, who better than Vic to be the first person to open up to? So, after a long silence, I spoke. 

"There was this guy, Matty..." I stopped, watching his expression for any kind of sign of what he was thinking. He just gave me all of his attention, waiting for me to go on, so I did, "We were dating and it was pretty intense...like, I don't know...I just..." 

"Take a deep breath," he interrupted. He put his hands over mine, calming me down. I took a deep breath in, then let it out. When I was done he gave me a little nod to continue. 

"I trusted him with...everything," I choked out. My voice caught in my throat and my eyes filled with tears. There was no way I could explain to him exactly how it felt. 

"Then he just ended it without a warning, and then I...you know...I couldn't handle it and, yeah...now I'm here," I finished as quickly as I could. Vic tilted his head to the side, looking at me with curiosity. 

"Oh," he said simply. My stomach tightened. Was his reaction what I feared everyone else's reactions would be like? Would he think that I'm stupid for doing what I did because of one guy? This was why I didn't want to tell anyone, because no one would understand. I went to take my hands away from his but he held them tighter. 

"Well," he finally spoke again, "If you ask me, he's missing out." 

I frowned in confusion. I wasn't quite sure what I had been expecting him to say. I was tossing up between him telling me 'it'll get better. You'll be fine', and 'that's a stupid reason to be this upset'. But no, instead of a mini-lecture he didn't try and condescend me at all. He just accepted what I was telling him. But what did he mean Matty was missing out? There was nothing to miss out on when it came to me? I was the one missing out on him. 

"Why?" I asked, needing an explanation. 

 

"Just 'cause," He said casually with a playful voice and knowing smile. I was even more confused, so he sighed and explained himself. 

"It's his loss. He's losing someone, you aren't," he said. What did that even mean? Of course I was losing him, but Vic was so sure Matty was losing me. There was nothing to lose when it came to me. 

In my state of confusion and being upset, I had nothing else to say to him. I wasn't even sure how I felt about this conversation. Telling him what happened went better than I thought it would and I even had a sense of weight being lifted off my shoulders, and I knew why that was too. With these strange, new feelings I was having towards him, I felt like I was lying to him by not telling him the truth, but now he knew and it felt like a wall between us had been broken down. What that meant now, I had no idea, but things felt just a little bit better in here. 

— 

The next day, I didn't wake up feeling empty and depressed. Last night I hadn't fallen asleep crying. I felt different, and maybe that was because Vic spent every second near me so I was focused on being around him, rather than being alone with my thoughts. 

"Aha! Checkmate!" Vic exclaimed. We were spending our afternoon in the games room after I went to an uneventful group therapy session. 

"You're a cheater," I mumbled. 

"Nope I'm just talented. Actually, me and my dad used to play this all the time, like seriously all the time when I was little. I would always try really hard to beat him but never could because he was so much smarter than me," he spoke quickly. 

"I guess you're smarter than me then." I said. 

"Oh, no, you're smart, I can tell. You just need practice," he smiled. I was starting to become attracted to his smile and how he would ramble on all the time. I found it endearing and often had to snap myself out of feeling that way. 

"You've gotta stop doing that," he told me. 

"Doing what?" I asked. 

"Smiling, and then realizing you're smiling, then frowning, because you have a cute smile so why not show the world," he said. 

"What?" I asked quickly and in shock. 

"What?" He said in confusion, as if he had no idea he called my smile cute. 

"You just..." 

"I just what?" He asked. He smiled playfully and my mind must have been playing tricks on me because I thought he was flirting. No, he wasn't. He couldn't have been. I was mistaking his niceness for something more.

I shook my head, ridding my mind from the thoughts, "Never mind." 

I was just confused, really confused, and every second I spent with him I would convince myself that the confusion would go away, but it didn't. Ever since I started seeing him in this different light, I've felt guilty. I was supposed to be upset all the time after the break up, but now I was looking at him like this? Surely I couldn't get over Matty that quickly. I just couldn't. It was impossible. That would mean that what I did to myself was pointless, but it wasn't because it was still affecting me in such a huge way. 

I was feeling something other than sadness and I was trying to latch onto that and focus all my energy on it, I knew that. I wasn't stupid. I was aware of how I was acting. I was confused, but still aware. I didn't think that I would be able to feel something other than sadness again, so now I was doubting everything. I thought I would never feel anything other than pain, so I tried to kill myself, but now I'm feeling something different, something lighter, so did that make me trying to kill myself irrelevant? Had I been wrong to do what I did? 

"Are you okay?" he asked me. He made me jump, startled as I was pulled from my thoughts for a brief moment. 

"No," I said. 

No, I wasn't. I was doubting whether I wanted to kill myself or not. That was supposed to be a good thing, wasn't it? That was a good sign, but I was so set on leaving this world and it was a shock to feel differently about that, yet at the same time, there was still a huge part of me that wanted that. Thinking about dying made me calm, but now scared. Thinking about living had me filled with anxiety. 

He came around to my side of the table and sat next to me, nudging my arm softly. I turned my head to the side and looked at him. He was sitting so close. I found myself wanting to move away but my body wouldn't budge. 

"Sorry for calling you cute," he said. So, he did know what I was talking about before. 

"It's okay," I said softly. 

"I mean, it was only the truth. If you can't handle your own cuteness then I'll take some of it from you, that's fine," he said cheekily. My heart fluttered. I couldn't help but blush and smile. I put my hands over my face to hide the effect he was having on me. It wasn't helping that I could feel his warmth radiating from his body onto mine. I took a deep shaky breath. 

"Stop it," I mumbled. 

"Haha, I made you smile," he teased and poked my side lightly. That tickled a little and I jerked away from him a little. I heard him sigh and stand up. 

"Fun police is here," he said under his breath and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it or not. I took my hands away from my face and looked up. Vic had gone back to the other side of the table. Who was the fun police? I looked around and saw Doctor Carlile standing by the rec room door. He was looking directly at us. 

Sometimes when Vic and I were having our little chats, or doing something as simple as playing a game, I would forget where I was. I would forget that there were cameras everywhere except for bedrooms and showers. I would forget that there were doctors always roaming the halls, watching. Carlile was someone I had only spoken to once. He wanted me to speak more, but I didn't, but I spoke to Vic all the time. I wasn't sure if he knew that or not, but he might now after seeing us together. He walked off and I looked back at Vic. 

"Anyway, wanna play again?" he asked. I nodded. 

"Sure," I said, and he started setting up the game again. 

The pain, the depression, the emptiness was finally starting to making its way out of me, at least for now. I was scared it would hit me again like a ton of bricks. I could work on it though. I felt like if I really tried I could work on getting better...maybe. That would mean I would leave though, and leaving meant leaving Vic, but I didn't know if I could continue getting better if I didn't have his positive outlook in my life. Sure, I could still see him outside of here, maybe, but not even nearly as much as I saw him in here. I liked the friendliness he offered and I couldn't get him out of my head. 

I wondered what he thought of me. Was I just another patient to help? Is he overly friendly like this with other people here? Was I imagining things? Would he forget about me and move on to helping new patients if I got out? 

Every time I started thinking positively, I was brought back down. Vic, I liked him, but every time I thought that I did like him, I would just think about how my feelings were probably a lie. It was too soon to like anyone else after Matty. I loved Matty still, didn't I? I was supposed to, but I wasn't sure. I couldn't get over him so quickly. My confusion made me want to scream and cry. 

I wanted to get out of here, but clearly I wasn't ready. Who knew what I would do if I left. I could follow through with my plans and kill myself, or I could do something else. I could give life a chance, but the thought of that had me panicked. All I knew right now was that Vic, who was sitting across from me, smiling brightly and talking a hundred miles an hour, was lighting this little spark of happiness in me. He was like a candle that was constantly shining brightly. It was a candle I never wanted to go out. 

I was in the recreation room the next day after lunch. I was reading a book. I hadn't seen Vic all day, but for some reason I wasn't worried. I felt a little bit more confident now, almost like I trusted him not to try and ditch me again. 

I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss yesterday. It was all that was in my head all day, even during therapy, I just sat there and daydreamed about him. I couldn't get him off my mind. Every time I thought about him my insides would go all warm and I had to hold back a smile. Although, I was still confused about how I felt. I decided not too long ago that I wanted to stay in this place to figure out exactly what was going on with Vic and I. I felt like I could do that better in here rather than having all the distractions of the outside world. 

I was reading a book when I saw Vic. Just like yesterday I was sitting on the bean bags in the corner of the room. He smiled and walked up to me, but this time he actually sat next to me. 

"Hey," he said. I glanced up from the book and smiled lightly. 

"Hi," I said back quietly. There were a few other people in the room and I didn't want them to hear whatever we were talking about, especially since it was inevitable that he would bring up the kiss. 

"What are you reading?" he asked. I showed him the front cover of the book I had read countless times before. 

"Oh cool," he spoke, and that was all. I could see that he had calmed down a lot. Instead of speaking rapidly, he chilled a bit, or at least right now he had. Maybe that was because he's more comfortable with me now, or maybe it was because there was some awkward tension between us because of yesterday. 

"So, I talked to your doctor," he said. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," he nodded, and then the rambling started, "He agreed to let me continue hanging out with you. Apparently he can see a change in you and that only happens when I'm around, so he said it's fine, which is good, is great. I want to help you in any way I can, so yeah, we can still hang out if you want. Do you want to?" 

I couldn't help but smile at the way he talked. I found it cute. Maybe he rambles when he's nervous or something. I didn't know. I couldn't figure him out. He was just weird, but that was okay. 

"Yeah," I said with a nod. 

"Good. Great. That's good," he said, then there was silence. I looked back at my book, pretending to be interested in it even though I wasn't really. 

"So..." he started then stopped. 

"So..." I repeated. 

"I think we should talk about the thing," he said abruptly. 

"The thing?" I asked, casting him a look. 

"Yeah, you know...my lips, your lips, getting to know each other..." he whispered. I held back a laugh, but only because he seemed really nervous and I didn't want to hurt his feelings. 

"Oh, yeah," I said simply. Again, there was silence until he broke it. 

"Well...what do you think or feel about it?" he asked. I didn't want to answer first, so I countered the question back at him. 

"What do you think or feel about it?" I asked. He didn't seem fazed by the question being turned on him. 

"Well...I mean...I didn't hate it," he said. He was so shy. It was a little strange seeing him like that. I was feeling that way too though. 

"I didn't hate it either," I said. He smiled and I saw him visibly relax. That was the end of the conversation. There was probably a lot more that needed to be discussed, but we didn't feel the need. It was what it was and we didn't need to complicate it with further conversation. Instead, we both stayed there reading books for the rest of the afternoon. 

 

*** 

Later that night I was lying in bed, half asleep, when the door opened. At first I just figured it was the person who was supposed to check up on me. They usually check in every hour, but someone had just been here like five minutes ago, so I turned my attention to the door and saw that it was Vic. He came in, the glow of the hallway outside illuminated him. I sat up, feeling confused. I had just said goodbye to him about an hour ago, but now he's back. 

"Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" he whispered. 

"No, no," I whispered back, "What are you doing here?" 

"Come on," he said with a nod towards the door. 

"What? Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Just outside." 

"Are we allowed?" I asked. 

"Hm, technically no. Well, you're not. I am," he said. 

"We'll get caught," I pointed out. 

"No we won't, trust me," he said and took my hand. The feeling of his fingers laced with mine made me want to follow him anywhere. 

"There are cameras," I said. 

"Oh please. The security hardly pays attention at night. Come on," he urged me. I wanted to spend time with him, so that won out over common sense and I got out of bed. He smiled brightly and took me out of the room. 

We stayed quiet once we got out into the hall. It was dimly lit and no one was in sight, although I could hear sounds coming from other places of the building. He pulled me along, my adrenaline pumping. It wouldn't be the end of the world if we got caught, but there was still a sense of danger about this that made it fun. 

He took me to the recreation room and we went through to the door that led outside. He had a key and opened it, then out we went. The air was cool, but not too cold. It was nice, but sent a shiver through me, especially since I was only wearing a shirt and shorts which was what I slept in. 

"Why are we out here?" I whispered as we walked hand in hand across the grassy area. 

"Why not? It's a beautiful night," he said. I looked up at the sky. It was completely clear and I saw the millions of stars littering the sky. 

"Yeah, I guess it's nice," I said. He didn't say anything as we continued across the yard. We got to the tree we had laid under that one time and he took me around behind it so we were out of view of the hospital. 

My heart beat was going crazy, and not because we were sneaking out, but because he stood in front of me, giving me the same look he had yesterday when he kissed me, only he ended up smiling. Still holding my hands, he pulled me closer then delicately kissed me. Just like yesterday it was a sweet, innocent kiss, with no intention of it going further than that. 

He pulled back and I couldn't help but notice the hint of regret on his face, but what he said next contradicted that. 

"I've wanted to do that all day," he said. 

"Then why do you look so guilty?" I asked. 

"Because...you're a patient and I'm a volunteer. It's not illegal, but still frowned upon," he said. He had points, but it didn't stop him from kissing me again and his statement was quickly forgotten. I was so lost in him. It was like every single problem I had just vanished and it felt like things would be okay. He stopped and pulled away, leaving me to feel like a giggly school girl. I looked away, no doubt blushing a million shades of red. 

We sat on the ground. I leant against the tree cross legged, while Vic sat the same way, but directly in front of me. He held both of my hands, running his fingers over them. 

"Your hands are really soft," he said. 

"Yours..." I started, but stopped. I wanted to repay the compliment but his hands were actually kind of rough. 

"Aren't? I know. It's because I play guitar. It messes my fingers up sometimes," he said. 

"Oh, so you're a musician?" I asked. I was completely intrigued with this new piece of information. 

"It's just a hobby, really. My dad taught me and I just kept with it. I'm not that great," he said. 

"I'm sure you are," I whispered. He looked at me with a smile but didn't say anything. He looked back down at my hands, or more specifically my palms, just staring at them and running his thumb along the surface. 

 

"What are you, a psychic palm reader?" I asked. He let out a short laugh. 

"I could be," he said. He brought my hands up closer and studied them. 

"In your future I see...Oh no," he said, his face displaying a look of mock horror. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Looks like a zombie apocalypse," he said. 

"Right, sure," I laughed. He looked up and smiled. Whenever he looked at me I got all shy. 

Silence fell over us. He kept looking at me hands, but I wasn't sure if he was just interested in them, or wanting to avoid my gaze. I found out it was the latter though because things suddenly got serious. 

"Do you still want to kill yourself?" he asked out of nowhere. He looked at me, probably seeing a surprised expression. I wasn't expecting him to say that, but I felt comfortable enough with him now to talk about it. 

"I don't know," I said, and that was the honest truth. I shook off the sudden surprise as he spoke again. 

"What does it feel like? Like...when you were at your worst, how did it feel?" he asked. I hesitated. 

"Sorry, you don't have to answer that," he said quickly. 

"No, it's okay. I'm just thinking," I said. I didn't know how to describe it. It was a weird feeling and it was difficult to put it into words, but I had thought about this long and hard before so my words came naturally. 

"It's like...it's like having one thousand paper cuts all over my body, all over my heart...It's like every little thing that happens cuts me up on the inside, but the cuts won't heal...there's no way to fight it, but with only one way to end it..." I finished in a quiet whisper. I had no idea where that came from. I snapped out of my little daze and looked into his eyes, a little surprised to see they were glistening, brimming with tears that didn't fall. 

"I'm sorry you've ever had to feel that way," he said. 

 

"Why say sorry? It's not your fault," I said casually to try and make the mood less intense. He held my hands tighter. 

"How do the paper cuts feel now?" he asked. 

"Numb," I answered quickly. 

"Do you feel like you're getting better?" he asked. I shrugged, completely unsure. 

"Maybe...I don't know," I said. 

We both went quiet for a little while. It felt nice to get all of that off my chest, and even better to know that he wasn't judging me about it. I felt ashamed about what I had said though. How I felt, or had felt, was a horrible, horrible thing, and although he made me feel okay about it right now, I still knew how horrible it was. It wasn't something that was deep and beautiful, no, it was ugly, like a disease. He knew that and I knew that, but he spared me feeling bad about it. 

"We should probably go inside before they notice I'm gone," I said after a really long silence. Someone would be coming to check on me soon so I wanted to get back before that happened. 

He nodded and was the first to stand up, pulling me with him, but we didn't leave right away, instead he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back, feeling content. I rested my chin on his shoulder and looked past him at the few cars driving by. 

"I really like you, Kellin," He said quietly. My heart exploded with warmth. I wasn't expecting him to say something like that. Most people would run for the hills if they heard what I just told him. No one wanted someone so damaged. 

"I really like you too," I said softly. We pulled out of the hug then he kissed me again, and again it was nice, soft, and sweet, which was more meaningful than any other type of kiss. It was just perfect. 

After that, we held hands and went back inside. Once we went through the recreation room, we said a quick goodbye to each other and parted ways; me to go back to my room, and him to do whatever the hell he did whenever he left me. I nervously and quietly snuck down the hall. There was no one in sight, except for when I passed certain rooms and caught glimpses of people who didn't catch glimpses of me. 

I was almost at my room when I stopped. The halls were dimly lit, but I saw a glimmer on the floor. I went over and picked up the metal object, studying it intently. My stomach tightened in knots. It was a safety pin. 

I didn't have much time to think about my discovery because I heard a noise down the hall. I clutched the safety pin in my hand and quickly made a dash for my room, sneaking in unnoticed. Once I was in I opened my hand and looked down at the safety pin. I didn't know what made me want to keep it, but I did. I ended up shoving it in my pillow case along with the blue iris, then promptly forgot about it as I drifted off to sleep. 

I didn't know if I liked group therapy or not. I liked it because there was less attention focused on me. Jeremy would ask me something, wait ten seconds for an answer, and then move on when he didn't get it, so I'd be sitting there just listening to everyone else for the rest of the session. 

I noticed over time that a few people had left this place already. They were the people who opened up the most and I could tell made the most progress. I wondered if they were surviving on the outside or if they broke down again like I felt like I might if I were to leave. There were a lot of new people too, including a small girl with brunette hair who looked too young and innocent to be here. I had only been half paying attention to what she was saying, that was until something caught my interest. 

"...And then my boyfriend left me which just tipped me over the edge," she said. I looked at her, a little surprised by the statement because so far there had been no one here, that I knew of anyway, that was here for similar reasons to myself. 

"I just...I don't know if things will ever be okay again," she spoke softly. 

"What exactly are you feeling?" Jeremy questioned. 

"Numb. It like there's nothing there. I don't want to live this way," she said. 

"But what if that feeling leaves?" Jeremy asked. 

"I don't know if I'll ever get past it," she said. 

"You will," the words left my own mouth before I even had a second to consider them. Everyone's eyes shot to me. Most of them, including Jeremy, looked at me in shock because as far as they knew, I had been mute. 

"Kellin, do you have something to share?" Jeremy urged me. I was feeling uncomfortable with all of these eyes on me. 

"Um...no...not really..." I trailed off and looked at the girl who had been speaking. She looked back at me with big, brown eyes. There was so much hope, yet so much pain in her them. This is bigger than my vow to stay quiet. I had something to say, so I would say it. 

"I've been in the same position before...once, a while ago," I said. That last part was a lie to throw Jeremy off. If I said it was recent then it could be obvious it's about Vic and I. I kept my gaze focused on the girl, pretending no one else was around. 

"I didn't think things would get better either. I didn't think I'd feel anything like, uh...like love ever again...but then I did. It came out of nowhere," I told her. 

"Really?" She asked, her voice dreamy and almost child-like. 

"Yeah...you just have to be open to every bit of positivity. What happened will start hurting less...and your views will change," I noticed everyone hanging off my every word and decided I didn't like it, "And uh yeah...that's all." 

I looked away and down at my fingernails, pretending to be completely fascinated by them so everyone would move on from me. 

"Thank you, Kellin," Jeremy said sincerely. I didn't make a move or say anything, but thankfully they moved on quickly. 

I was regretting talking now, but when I saw the grateful look on the girl's face, I knew it was the right thing to say. It was kind of ridiculous that I was one of those people who didn't want to take on board anyone's advice or optimism, yet here I was dishing it out to the first person who needed it. I felt like such a hypocrite. 

Once therapy was over I was pretty quick to leave the room, mostly because I knew Vic would be hanging around waiting for me. There were some other staff there, waiting to escort the newer members of the group around. I saw Vic and smiled. I kind of wondered what everyone else thought of him hanging out with me all the time instead of doing other stuff. He could do what he wanted since he was a volunteer and not getting paid, and clearly, or at least clearly to me, what he wanted to do was spend time with me because there's something going on here. 

"Hey," I said to him. 

He did a little nod thing, but then looked behind me with a confused expression. I turned around and standing there was the girl from before, staring at me. She didn't say anything, but quickly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist in a tight hug. I kind of stood there awkwardly and didn't hug her back. I glanced at Vic who didn't have any answers to what was going on. 

"Uh...h-hi?" I stuttered. She pulled back and smiled at me. 

"Thank you," she said. 

"Um...you're welcome?" I asked. 

"Really, thank you, you've given me some hope," she said. When she said that this warm feeling went through my heart. Who knew that a few simple words could make a difference? 

"Taylor, let's go," one of the staff said and the girl looked at them. Her name was Taylor. She looked back at me. 

"Bye," she said softly. I brought myself to smile and nod slightly as she was taken away. I turned to Vic. He seemed interested in what just happened. 

"Hope, huh?" he asked. This was embarrassing. 

"I guess..." I muttered. I leant against the wall and looked at the floor. I was waiting for everyone else to leave the recreation room so Vic and I could go in and hang out like we usually did. 

"What did you say to her?" he asked. I didn't want to speak again with so many people around, so I waited. Everyone ended up clearing out, the last one being Jeremy. Once they were gone I pushed myself from the wall and went inside. 

"Well?" he urged. I sighed and looked at him. 

"I don't know, just that things get better," I said. He smiled. 

"What?" I snapped as I sat down at one of the tables and he sat next to me. Under the table, out of view from the cameras, he held my hand, slowly lacing his fingers between mine. I stopped myself from smiling. 

"I can see how much you've progressed from when you first got here," he said. 

"Oh..." 

I didn't say anything else on the topic and neither did he. I was a bit uncomfortable with "progressing". It just meant that things were changing, but I liked the stableness of being in here. The outside world was a scary place. I knew Jeremy would report back to Carlile though and they'll notice that I'm changing. 

"So...when are you going to let Carlile know that you're getting better?" he asked. I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. 

"You have to leave sometime, you know. It's not healthy to be locked up in here for so long," he said. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, still not liking the conversation, but there was something I wanted to talk about. 

"What about us?" I asked. I barely even knew what 'us' was. 

"We'll still see each other, it just won't be in here," he said. I was kind of glad he said that, although I was still feeling uneasy about all of this. 

"So...um...you do still want to see me when I leave here?" I asked. 

"Yes," he said quickly. I really wasn't a huge fan of change. I was slowly starting to accept that I wasn't going to kill myself. It wasn't the path that I needed to take. This feeling was so strange. I was torn. I was scared of slipping of the edge again and didn't know what to do. 

I gazed out the window, thinking about things, everything. Would mine and Vic's relationship change beyond these walls? Probably. Who knew? I just knew that I didn't want him out of my life. He was the only person that made things seem okay. 

Looking out the window at the street, I had been staring, but then my eyes focused and I had to blink a few times in confusion. There was a person wandering up and down the fence-line. I had that sudden feeling of familiarization, and then I realized why. It was Matty. 

"I need to go outside," I said without a second thought. 

"What?" Vic's confused voice asked. I couldn't get my eyes off of Matty who was looking at the building as he walked back and forth. Was I imagining things? What in the world was he doing here? He told my parents he wanted to see me, but he wasn't allowed. I had the sudden, strong urge to talk to him. 

"Do you know him?" Vic asked. I glanced back at him. 

"It's...it's Matty. Please, Vic, I need to go and see him," I pleaded. 

He frowned, "What is he doing here?" 

"I don't know. I have to talk to him. He's here to talk to me," I said quickly. I wasn't sure what came over me. I saw Matty and just had to talk to him. I had to. I stood up from the table, letting go of Vic's hand. 

"Vic, please, I need to go out there," I begged. He didn't say anything for a few moments. My eyes were glued on the boy I once loved, still love? No. Who knows. I looked back at Vic desperately. He sighed then stood up. I was lucky there was no one else in the room with us. 

He went over to the door that led outside and I followed eagerly, but also in fear because I had no idea what would come of Matty being here. 

 

"Please be quick," he said after he unlocked the door, "We could get into a lot of trouble for this." 

I didn't say anything. I went past him and out the door. Matty saw me straight away and waved to get my attention, but he already had it. I walked towards him, and quickly too. I was anxious. For a while now I imagined seeing Matty and him taking me back. I dreamt about it all the time, but now I didn't know what I wanted. 

As I got closer, I realized the thing I wanted most was not Matty, but it was closure. He hurt me a lot, and as I got to him I was brought right back to the moment we broke up. I was brought back to how I felt, how he made me feel. 

I stopped a few feet away from the fence. I could see the emotion in his eyes. I saw the sympathy and the guilt. My chest tightened. I shouldn't have come out here. I shouldn't have. 

"Kellin..." He spoke first. His voice gave me a sense of nostalgia, and just hearing it made me teary. 

"They wouldn't let me in so I've been out here for hours. I'm so sorry, I didn't want you to end up here," he said softly. I could barely see him through my tears. I blinked rapidly to get rid of them. I tried to take a deep breath but it ended up as a sob. I hadn't spoken to him since our quick conversation when he broke up with me, so I was letting a lot out now. So many pent up emotions were begging to escape. 

"Why did you hurt me so much?" I asked. 

"I never meant for it to get this bad, Kellin, you gotta believe me when I said I never meant to hurt you," he said. He clung to the fence, his fingers holding tightly to the metal, but I didn't move closer. 

"So then why did you?" I whimpered. Tears made my cheeks wet. I was pathetic. Just seeing him brought this out of me. 

"Kellin...it just wasn't working out with us. I'm sorry, but that's the only reason I have. It was nothing personal against you. I was just us as a couple that wasn't working," he explained. I couldn't accept that. 

"But it was just so out of the blue. I don't understand," I shook my head. 

"But it wasn't out of the blue. Think about it for a moment. We had been drifting for a while..." he trailed off. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I didn't want to believe it. Denial. I had been in such deep denial, but I knew deep down that it was the truth. 

"But-," I stopped as a sob escaped, "But you told me it was forever." 

"And at the time that was the truth. At the time I thought it would be. Sometimes this is just how the world works. Feelings change, and that's on me. My feelings changed and that's not a reflection on you. I promise I never wanted to hurt you," he said. Was that the truth? It was hard to accept. 

"I mean it," he continued, "I still really care about you...like a lot." 

The statement made me start sobbing all over again. It made it worse if he still cares. I knew it was in a friendly way though. We would never be anything more and I didn't want to be either, not anymore. It didn't stop it from hurting though. I wiped at my tears and tried to calm myself down. 

"God, Kellin...why did you do this to yourself?" he asked. 

"I don't know anymore," I said honestly. We just looked at each other. He was still the same Matty I knew, only he didn't love me anymore. 

"Kellin!" I heard Vic whisper-yell from the building. I glanced behind me at him. He was waving for me to come back over. Vic and Matty, in the same space. What a mess my feelings were going through right now. 

"I have to go," I said to Matty when I turned back to him. 

"Please...don't..." he paused, looking more guilty than ever, "Please don't do this to yourself because of me." 

I slowly shook my head before whispering, "It wasn't your fault. It's wasn't...I've gotta go." 

The two of us just looked at each other for a moment longer, sadness thick in the air. I needed to be by myself to get my thoughts together otherwise I'll have a breakdown. Without another word I turned and left him there, heading back to the building. 

Vic was still standing at the door when I got there, and thankfully nobody else, so we weren't caught. I was still crying though. 

"Kellin, are you-," 

"I just want to be alone," I said quickly, cutting him off. 

"But-" 

"I need to be alone, I'm sorry," I said breathlessly. I left him there, rushing off to my room. 

Showers were a saving grace. It was ten minutes of peaceful bliss that made me feel so much better when things were not so good. I wouldn't say things were bad, but then again, they weren't great either. I thought that I would be a mess after my talk with Matty, and in a way I was, but mostly I was feeling okay. 

Right after the conversation I ran straight back to my room and all I wanted to do was cry. I did do that, for hours and hours. When it hit night time I felt numb and just wanted to sleep. I pushed everything from my mind because it was too much at the time. I slept. I awoke, and still felt a sense of numbness, but more than anything I felt relief. At first I couldn't quite put my finger on why I was feeling that way. I saw my ex who broke my heart, so I should have been hurting, but instead I was getting a completely differently outlook on things. 

As I let the hot water refresh my mind and body, I let my mind wander, trying to decipher what I was thinking and feeling. For what felt like a really long time, I had been left in limbo. I never really got an explanation of why Matty wanted to end things. I had been in a state of self-loathing, thinking it was all my fault, and in a way I still do think that. There must have been something about my personality that Matty simply didn't find appealing anymore. 

There was more to that though. It wasn't just about me. Like he said, it was both of us together, as a couple, that wasn't working anymore, which meant it was just as much his fault as it was mine. That made me feel a little bit better. It was his feelings that changed. He changed and that wasn't my fault. That was all on him. He wanted different things now; different to what I could give him. I didn't know what those things were, but as of now, they weren't my business. 

What helped me more now was knowing that he never broke up with me to be purposefully malicious. I had it in my head that he was out to get me, that he wanted me to be hurt, that he wanted me heartbroken and that he didn't care. That wasn't the case at all. He did what he felt was best to be done and he actually looked really sorry about it. I knew Matty well. I knew when he was being sincere, and yesterday when he said he didn't mean to hurt me, I believed it. I felt better now knowing that he didn't hate me. I felt like I had closure now. I could finally start to move forward instead of continuously dwelling on the past. 

Moving forward. That simply reminded me of Vic. I felt like I was more open to what I was feeling towards him now. Sure, some people would think it's too soon to move on to someone else, but what I have with Vic feels so real and intense. I know I'm falling for him, or maybe I've even already fallen. I loved everything about him. I loved his outlook on life which had been so opposite to mine for the past few weeks. I loved how bubbly he was and how he always made me feel okay when he was around. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. There was a knock on the door. I had zoned out completely, spending much more time than necessary in the shower. The person on guard was hurrying me along. I turned the faucet off, stopping the flow of water, then quickly got dried and dressed for a new day before leaving. 

I had my private appointment with Carlile today and didn't know if I was going to speak or not. I was scared to tell him that I was getting better, but maybe it would be best for me to get out of here, then Vic and I could start a real relationship. I really wanted to talk to Vic now because I ditched him yesterday and that wasn't very nice of me. Luckily for me, he liked to wait around for me in random places and today I found him hanging around outside of my room. 

I faltered in my steps for a second. He looked kind of sad and for a second I was confused, but I was also pretty stupid sometimes. I left him to talk to my ex, then came back and left him once again. That couldn't have felt good for him at all. I felt. So horrible now as I approached him. He saw me after I saw him and looked up. A smile played at his lips. I could barely imagine Vic without a smile. 

"Hey," I said softly when I got to him. 

"Hey. Can we talk now or..." he asked. I nodded quickly. 

"Yeah, of course. Come on," I said and nodded towards my room. He went inside first, leading the way, then I went in and closed the door. We faced each other, standing in the middle of the room. For once, he was completely silent. I think he wanted me to talk first but I honestly didn't know what to say, and maybe I was being a little bit stubborn because I wanted him to talk first. 

I did the only thing that came to mind and stepped forward. I slipped my arms around his waist, locking them around his back in a hug, or what felt more like a cuddle. It was warm, it was nice. I rested my head against his shoulder. I heard and felt him sigh heavily, almost like it was in relief, before holding me back. 

I breathed in deeply, slowly turning my head towards his neck. He smelt like, I guess, a sort of chemical scent that you'd only get from working in a hospital. Maybe it was the clothes. I didn't care. I liked it. For some reason it was comforting. He was comforting. He was so special to me. 

I found myself lightly kissing the sensitive skin on his neck, not as a way to lead to something more, but just as a small indication that I still wanted him. He sighed again and awkwardly clearly his throat in a fake cough afterwards. He pulled back a little just to look at me, but still kept me close. He brushed my hair out of my eyes, something he did quite often. 

"I'm sorry for leaving so quickly yesterday," I decided to speak first. 

"It's okay, I understand. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. 

 

I nodded, "Yeah, okay." 

He didn't say anything, just watched me, waiting patiently for me to explain what was going on, and for once I actually knew what I was thinking and how I was feeling, on the most part anyway. 

"Basically, Matty just wanted to explain himself. He told me he never meant to hurt me and I believe that," I told him. 

"Right..." he said slowly. He seemed very unsure. I realized he probably felt threatened by Matty. I knew that if Vic had an ex who suddenly showed up then I would be incredibly jealous and unsure of where I stood with him too. 

"It was just good to get some closure on the relationship," I said. 

"Oh, was it?" He asked. 

"Yeah. I think I can get past it, and him, now," I said. At the mention of getting over Matty, he visibly lit up. 

"Really?" he asked, not bothering to hide the hope in his voice. 

"Yah, hopefully. I held onto what happened for so long because when he broke up with me, he didn't give me a real explanation, but I have one now, so I can move on," I said. 

"And you're okay with what he said?" he asked. 

"Yeah... yeah I think so." I said with a smile. He smiled back. 

"That's good. No, that's great. This is good for you. You'll be able to move forward now." he said, and he was so right. 

"Yep, I will be," I said simply. He held me closer. His eyes no longer showed that hint of sadness and instead he was back to normal Vic. 

"So, how are you feeling now?" he asked with concern in his voice. 

"Umm...different," I said the first thing to come to mind. 

"Different how?" he asked. I thought about it for a moment. 

"It's like I'm getting back to my old self...Like how I was before everything that happened," I said. 

"That's great for you," he said in excitement, "I'm happy for you, Kellin. You deserve to get better." 

"You helped me a lot with getting better though, so thank you," I said with a genuine smile. 

"Anytime," He said softly. I looked from his eyes and down to his lips, for only a second but it was enough for him to notice and smile teasingly at me. 

I didn't let him say anything about it though because I kissed him softly. I couldn't get over the rush of feelings that came to me when I kissed him. My heart practically melted in my chest. He ran his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear before resting his hands on my neck. His fingers lightly trailed across my jaw line. 

For once. The kiss went beyond soft, sweet and innocent. When he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I willingly accepted the passionate kiss. There was nothing sexual about it at all. We wanted each other on a completely different level. There was so much more to this than the superficial side of things. 

A clicking sound which I would have gladly ignored made him stop. His lips left mine and all I wanted was more. I opened my eyes to look at his. In them I saw a mixture of sadness and regret. Only, he wasn't looking at me. He was looking behind me. Turning around quickly, my heart leapt into my throat when I saw Doctor Carlile standing there at the now opened door. 

I couldn't quite explain the feeling that went through me. 'Dread' was the only word coming to mind. We were caught. Carlile looked disappointed. He had a stern expression on his face. I just now realized how bad this was. When I was with Vic I barely even thought about how we probably weren't allowed to do this. It wasn't even a factor in my mind. Sure, it wasn't illegal, but it was still frowned upon. 

"Victor, come with me," Carlile said, motioning with his fingers for Vic to follow him. I looked at the boy I had undoubtedly fallen for. He barely even glanced at me. He knew he was in trouble. He followed Carlile' orders and all I wanted to do was reach out and pull him back into the room, but a few seconds later the two of them were gone and my door was shut, leaving me alone. 

I went into panic mode. What would this mean? Vic would surely get fired. Even though what he and I were doing felt so right, everyone else would think it's inappropriate behavior on his part. He would have to leave and that killed me, but not because that meant we wouldn't be able to see each other, because I knew I would be getting out of here soon and be able to see him. It killed me because I knew how much he loved his volunteer work. He loves helping me. I could see that every day when he got such joy out of every little bit of progress that I made. 

I didn't want him to get into trouble. I didn't know what I could do to make things better, but I couldn't just stand by while he got into trouble for something that was just as much my fault. Maybe if I told Carlile what happened between us and told him it was purely innocent then he would go easy on him. 

With that thought in mind I quickly opened the door and left my room. I strode down the hallway towards Carlile' office. I realized it was past ten o'clock. I had been late to my appointment with him which was why he came looking for me. God, I was such an idiot. 

I got to his door and was about to knock on it when I stopped. Carlile wasn't yelling, but he definitely wasn't keeping his voice quiet. I could tell there was a heated argument going on and that's what stopped me. I didn't want to interrupt, then again, that's what I was here for. I just froze. 

"You told me nothing was going to happen between you two. I saw it happening but you assured me nothing would come of it. Was that a lie?" Carlile asked. It hadn't even crossed my mind that they talked about me. 

"No...yes...I don't know. I didn't mean for it to happen, really, I didn't, but it just did. I can't help what I feel," Vic argued back. I didn't even know that he tried hard not to be with me. 

"You had one task. I gave you one thing to do, and that was to get close to him. I wanted you to befriend him, not become his boyfriend. You were supposed to be his friend, get him to open up to you, then report back to me. That was what we agreed upon," Carlile said, and what he said made my stomach churn. 

I couldn't believe it. Vic's friendship. Everything. It was a set-up. 

The amount of betrayal I was feeling was too much for me. Vic was the one person who was giving me so much hope that things would be okay and that there is still good out there in the world, but in a second that was ripped away. At first I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't believe that he would actually lie to me. I was in shock. 

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I know what I was supposed to do but I...I don't know. It just happened," Vic spoke. I couldn't believe anything that came out of his mouth anymore. 

"Well it can't happen again. You told me he's getting better, right? That he'll be okay to leave soon?" Carlile asked. Vic told him that? What else did he tell him? I shared so much with him and trusted him not to tell anyone. 

"Yes, yes. That's right. He doesn't want to kill himself anymore," Vic said. 

"Good. We don't want to rock the boat when he's so close to being recovered, so I need you to go back to him right now and tell him everything is okay. Tell him I gave you a warning and that you aren't allowed to continue your relationship, because you aren't," Carlile said sternly, and I suddenly hated him so much. 

"I can't do that," Vic argued. 

"You can and you will. Act as though everything is okay so he can get better. We can't risk ruining this," Carlile said. There was a silence for a moment. 

"Okay, I'll talk to him," Vic said. That made me move. He was going to leave the room and I wanted to escape. I turned and rushed back down the hall. 

I got back to my room and paced around in circles. I was so confused. How could I have been so blind to this? How could I not have known that Vic was reporting back to Carlile about me? Of course, he was doing that. It was probably part of his job. I felt sick. So, so sick at this new piece of information. 

The door opened and I was expecting it. Carlile told Vic to talk to me, and he obeyed. As soon as I saw him I started crying. This just hit me right in the gut. The shock was too much. I really didn't understand. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Vic shut the door and came close but I took a step back. 

"You lied to me," I whined. He looked confused but only for a split second, then he realized I heard the conversation. 

"Kellin, please-" 

"I never lied to you!" I shouted at him, "Everything I said, everything I opened up about, I never once lied and you were lying this whole time!" 

"I...I..." He stuttered. He didn't have an explanation, of course. It was tough to admit to being a liar. 

"I trusted you, you fucking asshole! The only reason you actually wanted to be my friend was so you could report back to your boss! It's disgusting!" I practically screamed. 

"No, that wa-" 

"Save it! I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anymore bullshit from you. I don't even want you near me right now!" I yelled. He looked so taken aback. My quiet, soft spoken self was locked away and I was letting every little emotion out. 

"I'm so-" 

"Shut up!" I screamed, "Get out! Get the hell out, okay, I hate you for this!" 

He looked defeated and I couldn't stand watching him. I turned away, sobs escaping my lips. I actually loved him and it was entirely fake from his end, or at least the start of everything was. That was all that mattered right now. 

"Leave me alone," I said quieter with gritted teeth. I shut my eyes tightly, willing him to just get away from me. All I heard was silence and I was too scared to open my eyes. Slowly, I eventually did open them. I looked at the door. He was gone. 

I ran over and shut the door in a rush so I could be alone. I couldn't believe this. I really couldn't. I didn't understand how he could do this to me. Did I really have such bad choices in people that I pick the ones who end up hurting me the most? Matty broke my trust. So did Vic, and I couldn't handle it. 

I felt like screaming. I felt like hitting something. I was sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was going hazy. So many bad thoughts were going through my head. I rushed over to my pillow and emptied the contents of the case on the floor. Two objects fell out but I dropped to my knees and snatched up the paper flower. 

Hope? Faith? No, I had none of that right now. He made this stupid flower for me and it was just a lie. He did it to get close to me. I tore it to shreds, not caring that I no longer had the symbol that had gotten me through long and lonely nights. It didn't matter to me anymore. 

I looked down at the safety pin. I craved the one sharp point. I was so angry and upset. I just needed it. I needed something to stop what I was feeling. I needed to let it all out somehow, so without a second thought, I picked up the pin, opened it so the end was free, then I dug it into my wrist and yanked down quickly. 

A bolt of pain shot through my arm. I gasped out loud and dropped the pin. I instinctively grabbed my wrist with my other hand and held it tightly to stop it from hurting. I didn't think it would hurt that much. I really didn't. I paused, frozen. I had never cut myself before. 

With shaky hands and a curious mind, I pulled my hand back to look at the damage. Blood was trickling out of the straight line and at the sight of it, I panicked. I didn't want this. I was doing it again. Really? I was harming myself over a boy, again? I didn't want to be that person. I didn't want to be the type of person whose world comes crashing down because of a guy. I couldn't be that person, not again. I got over Matty and what happened to us. I was moving on, and I got hurt by someone else. Just like with Matty it felt like the end of the world, but I knew better now. I knew that the hurt wouldn't last forever. I couldn't keep doing this to myself. 

I wiped at the blood to make it go away, but when I did, more appeared. I did it again, but still the blood slowly trickled out. 

"No, no, stop it," I whispered. I didn't want this anymore. I was panicking. What if I cut a vein? What if it wouldn't stop bleeding? I covered my wrist again and stood up. I needed help. 

I left the room and headed down the hall towards Carlile office. I wasn't fazed by the fact that I would be talking to him after my vow not to. I just wanted the bleeding to stop. I couldn't stop myself from freaking out. When I got to the office door it was open and Carlile was sitting there, not doing anything, but looking like he was deep in thought. He looked up when he noticed me there. 

"Help me, please," I said in a quiet voice. He looked confused for a moment. I took my hand off my wrist and his eyes shot to it immediately. He stood up quickly and came over. He grabbed my arm, examining it. 

"Come with me," He said simply. He kept a hold of my arm and led me down the hall. What did this mean now? Would I be thrown into the intensive unit? The thought terrified me. I didn't stop to think about the consequences of hurting myself. Sure, at the time it seemed like a great idea, but it really wasn't. 

Carlile took me up a flight of stairs and into a treatment room. All kinds of medical equipment lined the walls. He took me to a counter and we stopped walking. He went through various drawers until he found alcohol wipes to clean my hand that had blood on it, then proceeded to wipe my wrist clean. 

I flinched, clenching my jaw as prickles of pain went through my wrist. The alcohol wipe made the cut sting. I really didn't do well with pain. 

"Why did you do this?" Carlile asked. 

"I was upset," I said. 

"Why?" He asked quickly. He kept cleaning the wound, which now that it was clean I saw wasn't very deep at all, at least not deep enough to have stitches. It still bled a lot. Then again, even the shallowest of cuts can bleed the most. 

"Because...I heard you and Vic talking," I said. There was no point in staying quiet now. I didn't have anything to hide anymore, especially since I knew Vic had gone back to Carlile time and time again to tell him my inner thoughts. 

"Right," he said. That was all he had to say? I felt like I deserved some sort of explanation. 

"Yeah, right. Why would you make him do that?" I asked. 

 

"Because you wouldn't talk to anyone, but I could see from the second I saw you two together that he could get you to talk," he said. 

"That wasn't right. You're a doctor, you shouldn't have done that," I said. 

"I know, morally it was wrong, but he agreed to help me. It really was just in your best interest," he said. 

"He lied to me. How is lying to me over and over again in my best interest?" I asked. 

"If it's any consolation, I can guarantee you he felt bad about it," he said. 

"Bullshit," I snapped. He sighed as he let go of my wrist to find a bandage. He shook his head, like I was a child who just didn't understand. 

"Not bullshit at all. He felt guilty about what he was doing," he said. 

"Then why didn't he stop?" I asked. 

"Because he knew that going back on our agreement meant spending less time with you," he explained. I didn't say anything. I just didn't know what to believe anymore. I didn't know who was telling the truth or who was lying. I certainly didn't trust the man standing in front of me. 

"I really trusted him and he went behind my back. Him being my friend was a lie," I said. 

"Maybe it started out that way. I told him to be your friend. I didn't tell him to kiss you," he said, and that left me thinking. He was right about that. He never told Vic to go further with me, or maybe he did, or maybe I had no freaking idea because I couldn't trust a single word anyone said anymore. 

"I just don't know what was real and what was a lie," I said quietly. 

"Vic..." He paused, "...is a genuine person." 

"No he's not. If he was then he wouldn't have lied to me," I said. 

"He had his reasons," he said simply. 

"Doesn't matter now though, does it?" I asked. 

"No, it doesn't. I didn't expect the friendship to go beyond a friendship, and for that reason it's best that you and Vic don't see each other in here anymore," he said. 

I found myself not liking the sound of that at all. As angry as I was at Vic, I hated the thought of not seeing him. Once again, like usual, I was confused about what I was feeling. 

"Anyway, you hurt yourself because you were upset. Why did you stop?" he asked. He let go of my arm and I looked down at the now bandaged wrist. 

"Because...." I mumbled. 

"I'm trying to help you here." he said. I sighed, giving in because I was done with the silent treatment. 

"Because I don't want to keep hurting myself every time something bad happens," I told him. 

"So you made the decision not to harm yourself?" he asked. 

I nodded without saying anything. 

"When you cut yourself, were you thinking of wanting to die?" he asked. 

"No," I said truthfully. 

"Do you want to die?" he asked. I thought about it for a few seconds. 

"No," I said with a shake of my head. 

"Good. I'm glad to see you made that decision on your own," he said. 

"What does this mean for me now though?" I asked. Anxiety brewed in my heart at the question. 

"Today has been emotionally exhausting for you. Perhaps we'll discuss it tomorrow," he said. 

"Okay," I was quick to accept that. I was still afraid of change, so I was completely okay with putting off the conversation for a little longer. 

Not much else was said between Carlile and I. He took me back down to my room and I was pleased to find out he wasn't moving me to the intensive section of suicide watch. I guess after our talk he realized that I wouldn't hurt myself again, which I wouldn't. It was a horrible thing to do and absolutely no positives came out of it. 

He took the safety pin off of me which I was completely fine with. I didn't need it anymore. I didn't need it in the first place. He left me alone after that, and I didn't stay in my room for very long. My thoughts had wandered back to Vic. 

I was still so confused. I didn't know what parts of our conversations were real and what parts were faked. I didn't know what was the truth and what were lies. I was so quick to shut Vic down when he came in here earlier. I didn't want this to be another Matty situation where I had no closure. I needed answers, so I went looking for him. I just had to speak to him. He might get fired for kissing a patient so I needed to see him today before that could possibly happen. 

I couldn't find him through the halls or dining or recreation room. I didn't see him outside through the windows. I stopped in the main hall, looking left and right, wondering what to do next. My gaze fell on the door that led to the intensive patient's unit. I remembered Vic telling me the staff room was through those doors. I knew I wasn't allowed through there, but I didn't really care about rules at this point. 

I headed to the door, then slowly turned the handle, as if the slightest sound would make me get caught. I opened it, quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind me. I looked down the hall. I noticed the change in atmosphere straight away. Where I stayed I always thought it was cold and bleak, but compared to what this place looked like it was warm and inviting. 

The hallway was long and narrow. Everything was unbelievably white. I could hear crying down the hall. Sure, where I stayed I would hear crying too, but this crying was painful to hear and echoed through the hall. I kind of wanted to turn around and leave, but I needed to find Vic and get my explanation. 

I walked down the hall, looking at each door to find the staff room. I really hoped he would be in there. I finally got to it, half way down the hall. It clearly said "staff only" on the door. I looked through the window in the door. There were a few people inside, but no Vic. 

I sighed and turned back around. I guess I'd just have to wait and see what happens. I wasn't even entirely sure that I wanted to see him. Yes, I wanted an explanation, but he's hurt me a lot so there's the other half of me which would be happier if he was just gone. 

I walked down the hall in a bit of a hurry because I didn't want to get caught in here. About a quarter of the way back down the hall, I stopped when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I took a few steps back and looked at the door. It was an ordinary door like all of the others, but the thing I noticed was on the floor; the tiny, thin. red line at the bottom of it. 

I stared at it and the line became more visible. That's when I realized what it was. It was red liquid oozing out from under the door. It was blood. I saw blood in the intensive patient unit on the floor, so of course my mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Someone had hurt themselves, and with my newfound sense of life being not that bad, I wanted to help. 

I opened the door quickly, ready to assess the damage and ready to call out for someone to help. I prepared myself to see a stranger, but the sight before me shocked and traumatized me more than I ever thought imaginable. My heart clenched and felt like bursting out of my chest. My breathing completely stopped as anxiety and panic filled me greater than it ever had before. 

A line of blood trickled along the floor to where I was standing. It lead to a lifeless body of a boy who had their trousers down and their thighs covered in blood. Slashes going in every direction, one of them looked deeper than the rest and the blood wasn't stopping. 

The amount of blood wasn't what made me fill with anguish. It wasn't the metallic smell. It wasn't the patches of red smeared over the floor and the boys clothing. It was the fact that the boy laying in front of me was the one I had fallen for. It was Vic. 

"Vic..." I whispered in a mouse-like voice. My voice shook with whimpers as I took a step into the room. What did he do? What has he done to himself? 

Snap. I came to my senses. I ran over to him and quickly dropped to my knees. My hands were shaking as I hovered over him. My eyes scanned up and down his body. 

"N-No. No. W-what...h-how..." I stuttered. There was so much blood and it wasn't stopping. I put my hands over the largest wound, pressing down to stop the blood from escaping his body. 

"No, Vic, what did you do?" I cried. My breathing, short and shallow, was quick to almost turn into hyperventilation. 

"Stop. Stop bleeding. Vic stop it." I whined. He didn't respond. Not even a twitch. This wasn't happening. I had to be dreaming. I looked around the room. There was a scalpel hanging loosely from his hand. How did he get that? Why would he do this? I didn't understand. I looked at the door. 

"Help me!" I screamed, "Someone help me please!" 

I looked back to Vic, "Why did you do this? This isn't what you do!" 

My vision went blurry as tears refused to stop. Where was everyone? 

"Someone help!" I screamed again, louder than ever. I heard doors opening and shuffling feet. Blood was still pouring over my fingers. I looked at Vic's face; his peaceful, dream-like expression. The smile was gone. The bubbliness was gone. 

Before I knew it I was getting pushed out of the way. I scrambled backwards away from the scene as three people, doctors, in their white coats huddled around Vic. I sat there with wide eyes, watching the scene before me. I could barely process what I was seeing. It was almost like it wasn't real. This wasn't something that Vic would do. I knew him. He wouldn't hurt himself. 

What was happening? I couldn't hear the words being spoken around me. I kept my eyes on him, on the deep cuts, and on the scars surrounding them. Scars? Old scars. He had done this before. This isn't real. This isn't real. 

They were taking him away on a stretcher. Where were they taking him? Why wasn't I moving? I wanted to chase after him. I wanted to force him to wake up and tell me why he did this. Why would he do this? 

I barely even noticed Carlile come into the room until he was pulling me up by my upper arm. I looked down at my hands with wide eyes. They were covered in blood. Vic's blood. The room looked like a scene straight from a horror movie. 

I stood and almost in a trance-like state I went with Carlile towards the door, but just as we got there a thought popped into my head and we stopped. I pulled back and he spoke to me, but I didn't hear him. 

I lightly touched the edges of the door and slowly pushed it forward so I could look at the patient chart on the back of it. Just like in my room, the details were written there as clear as day. 

Name: Victor Fuentes 

Age: 17 

Status: Admitted for eighth attempt 

Watch Type: Intensive- High risk 

Vic'S POV: 

"Victor Fuentes; Model patient. No incidences between these walls despite this being your eighth admission. Polite, friendly and open, yet is able every single time to convince me that you are fine so I'll let you leave," Doctor Carlile said. He snapped my folder shut. 

"Well, come on, you make me sound like a liar, and I'm not a liar. I am simply a withholder of truth, or at least only tell you what I want you to know, and what's wrong with that? So I like my deepest thoughts to be kept to myself, because they are my thoughts after all, not yours. You don't own them," I said, and although I could have been aggressive with my behavior, I wasn't. I didn't see the point for aggression. Sure, I hated that I was back here but I didn't have to project that onto the innocent doctor. 

"We've had this conversation too many times," he said. 

"I'm open to talking about something else if you want. Seen any good movies lately? How's the wife these days?" I asked. 

"Victor," He stopped me before I went on and on, "Don't try and distract me. I'm not sure what to do with you anymore. You spend each of your stays here acting like you're on top of the world and I have no choice but to let you go, and a few months later you're in here again." 

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and cleared my throat, but no words came out of my mouth. 

"Anyway, we start therapy tomorrow, like normal. For now though, I'll take you to your room," he said. He got up and went to the door. The second his back was turned I snapped off a piece of sticky tape from the dispenser on his desk. I held it between my fingertips then got up, smiling at him as we left the room. 

He led me down the hall, the halls I knew all too well. I couldn't believe that I was back here, again! I was too weak to succeed in killing myself. I always either got caught or had a moment of weakness where I didn't go as far as I needed to. It was strange, I wanted to die, I still do, yet I get scared when it comes down to it. 

I was so set on ending my life, now more than ever. I had gotten a lot worse. Nothing seemed to make me happy anymore, despite the amount of fake smiles I had plastered on my face at all times. I couldn't do another month stint in here. It wasn't a horrible place, but I needed to get out. 

"Same room, thank you. I like this one," I said when we got to the door. He opened it, and when I walked in I put the sticky tape over where it would lock, so that when the door closed, it wouldn't lock. I hated that they put locks on the doors in the intensive unit. I hated that there was literally nothing in the room. The staff here were so afraid of someone getting out and hurting themselves. I would never hurt myself here though. I didn't want to die in a hospital. 

Carlile left me in my room and my mind started working on a plan to get out of here. I already knew what I had to do. In a place like this, all you have time for is thinking. 

I waited a few minutes before leaving the room. I poked my head out first, making sure no one was around, which luckily they weren't. I knew this place well enough to know where everything was and where the staff were at certain times. I crept quietly over to the staff room and looked through the window. It was empty. Perfect. 

I went inside and dashed over to the employee's lockers. I opened a couple before I found what I was looking for. I grabbed a volunteer's uniform and changed into it. If I'm wearing this then no one will give me a second glance if I'm walking down the halls, which gives me the perfect opportunity to get out of here. 

 

I stole a set of keys that were hanging up by the door too. I would need them to get out of here. I shoved them in my pocket then looked out into the empty hallway. I walked swiftly down the hall until I got to the door that lead to the main area. All I had to do was keep my head down and get to the recreation room which wasn't too far away. 

I opened the door. There were a couple of people in the hall, but I tried not to look suspicious. They barely glanced at me. I made my way to the recreation room and sighed in relief when I stepped inside. All I had to do was unlock the back door and leave, although the whole climbing over the high fence bit would be a challenge. 

I was completely prepared to ignore any patients that might have been in here and just leave, but that was proven to be difficult when I heard the painful crying coming from a boy sitting on the floor, leant up against a wall. I stopped in the middle of the room, looking at the boy in curiosity. It wasn't uncommon for people to cry in here and I saw it often, but this boy had an aura of beauty about him which intrigued me. 

I tiptoed closer before kneeling down in front of him. His face was buried in his hands. His sobs were slightly high pitched and if crying could ever be described as cute then that's what I would describe it as. That was terrible thought. There's nothing cute about crying. 

He suddenly looked up and it was like he saw a ghost. His eyes went wide and he tried to back away despite being against a wall. Wow. I was somewhat stunned with how beautiful he was. I frowned. How could someone so beautiful, and look so innocent, be in a place like this, looking scared and broken? His cheeks were streaked as the wet lines ran down from his eyes. It didn't look right. 

"Your skin is too flawless for tear stains," I told him truthfully. I couldn't help myself. I reached forward to fix it, wiping at his tears. I smiled, seeing how much better he looked when he wasn't crying. He was shaking so much though. 

"Are you cold?" I asked. He shook his head. 

"Why are you crying?" I asked with more cheer in my voice than necessary. I guess I figured if I expelled positivity then it would make everyone else feel better. He didn't say anything though. I had been like that once. I never wanted to talk, so I didn't really want to force him to. On the other hand I really wanted to know more about him. 

"Not much of a talker?" I asked him, "That's okay. I love talking. I can make up for the both of us. Why are you in here by yourself?" 

He didn't say anything, but shrugged. 

 

"I'm Vic," I said and extended my hand for him to shake. Again, he didn't make a move. I wondered what happened to him to make him like this. I retracted my hand. 

"Okay then. What's your name?" I asked, even though I was positive he wouldn't answer me. I wanted to know though. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to see what he looked like with a smile on his face. 

"Kellin," He spoke. I smiled widely at the sound of his voice. I had a sense of accomplishment for making him talk. 

"That's a cute name. It's nice to meet you, Kellin," I said. His lips twitched, but other than that he kept that scared expression on his face. 

I heard footsteps then saw Kellin looking past me. I refrained from sighing in frustration because I knew the sound of those shoes. I turned and sure enough saw Doctor Carlile standing by the glass windows watching me. I was caught. 

"Well," I said when I turned back to Kellin. I just remembered I was wearing a volunteer's uniform and I didn't want to confuse the poor boy so I came up with a little white lie, "I better get back to work." 

I stood up quickly and practically skipped away, knowing I would be in trouble for talking to other patients. I almost, literally, ran into Doctor Carlile once I was out of there. 

"Well hey there, doc, long time no see. I was just chatting to my buddy, Kellin, over there. No biggie," I tried to downplay the situation. 

He frowned, "He told you his name?" 

"Nah, I'm psychic," I said. 

"But, he spoke to you, yes?" He asked. 

"Well...yes, I mean, he does have a voice box. Why? Is he supposed to be mute or something? What's the big deal? Oh wait, I know, I know what it is. I'm not supposed to be talking to patients, I know, bad Vic, but he just looked so sad and I don't like it when other people are sad so I wanted to see if he was okay," I said quickly. I smiled, trying to shrug it off like it wasn't a big deal. He had a thoughtful expression on his face for a moment. 

"Come with me," He said and turned. 

I sighed and followed him because the other option was going back to my room, and being locked in that room with no one to talk to and nothing to do was absolute hell. I hated being confined to my own thoughts, which I figured out during my fourth stay here after Doctor Carlile psycho-analysed me, is why I talk so much. I can't be thinking about all my problems if I'm talking to other people. 

"Sit down, stay here. I will be back." He said when we got to his room. 

"Umm, okay, sure," I said and sat down at his desk. He left, shutting the door behind me. I wondered what he wanted. Was I about to get punished? Probably. I can't exactly get away with trying to get out of here. Honestly, the place wouldn't be so bad if they let me out every once in awhile. Doctor Carlile knew that. He knew I hated being alone. I had nothing to do in that room. 

I had no idea how long I had been in here for, but it was a while. He eventually did come back though and sat across from me. 

"Alrighty then, what's my punishment?" I asked to get it over and done with. It wasn't like they could send me to an even more solitude place. 

"I don't have a punishment for you, but more of a proposition," he said. I leant forward, curiosity burning inside of me. 

"I'm listening," I said. 

"Okay, well, I know you fairly well, don't I, Victor?" He asked. 

"Better than anyone," I said, and that was the honest, sad truth. 

"Right. So I know that you would never attempt suicide while you were in here, right?" he asked. That was true. I didn't want to die here. I wanted to die somewhere that I chose. 

"Yes. What is your point?" I asked. 

"Well, I feel like I can trust you to not be in the intensive rooms all the time because I don't feel like you need to be there, because when you're here you aren't a risk to yourself," he said. 

"Right..." What the hell was he getting at here? 

"So, how would you feel about being able to go spend a lot more time out of the intensive unit?" he asked. 

"Obviously I would like that very much," I said. 

"You can spend time in the recreation room, dining hall, maybe even outside sometimes too," he said. I looked at him suspiciously. 

"I just tried to escape..." I pointed out. 

"I know, and I'm willing to overlook that and still give you these privileges," he said. 

"What's the catch?" I asked. 

"You know that boy you were just talking to?" he asked. 

"Kellin?" I answered. 

"Yes, Kellin. Me, other doctors and even his parents are having trouble getting through to him. He won't say a single word to us, yet you got him to speak," he said. 

Of course I did. These people don't understand what it's like to be in a place like this. They don't know what it's like to want to end your life. They talk to us like we're a problem, not a human, so of course Kellin spoke to me when I treated him like a person. Sure, Doctor Carlile meant well and he just wanted to help, but he would never truly understand. 

"Okay?" I said, still confused. 

"What I want you to do is talk to him more, befriend him," he said. 

"Okay, so you're going to move me to general patients so I can be his friend?" I asked. 

"Not exactly. He's already seen you in that uniform. If you were to come out as a patient then he wouldn't trust you and might not talk to you, so my plan is for you to keep that uniform and to him you will be a volunteer helping him," he said. The idea sounded absolutely absurd. 

"Why don't you ask one of the other patients to do this?" I asked. 

"Because I don't trust them. I know you. I've known you since you were fourteen. I know how your mind works. I know that I can trust you with this," he said. 

My mind was reeling. Was he being serious with all of this? 

"So...you want me to pretend to be a volunteer and get close to this guy?" I asked. 

"Yes. I just need you to find out why he's here. I know people like Kellin. I've seen it before. They don't like authority. But you, you can understand him better than I can," he said. 

"Why are you a psychologist if you can't do your job right?" I asked. 

"I can't very well do my job when my patients refuse to speak. I just need you to tell me what he's thinking," he said. I thought about it. It was deceptive and I wasn't a huge fan of deception, but what he was offering was a little too hard to refuse. 

"So, I would be able to wander around here as much as I want then?" I asked. 

"To an extent. You'd still have to go back to your room at night," he said. I nodded slowly. 

"This isn't right, you know that, don't you? I mean, I'm a patient," I said. 

"Yes, you're a patient who I've been seeing since you were fourteen and nothing I have done has helped you. Perhaps spending time with other patients is what you need," he said, and then it clicked. This wasn't just helping this Kellin boy that he wanted, he was still analyzing me, thinking I might change my mind about killing myself if I talk about someone else wanting to kill themselves. A simple patient can't change who I am. 

"And..." he continued, "I'll think about releasing you early if things go well." 

That officially got my interest. 

"Okay, fine, fine. I'll do it. I'll befriend him," I said. 

Kellin'S POV: 

How didn't I notice what had been going on right in front of my eyes? Even as I thought back on it, I still couldn't pinpoint a moment where Vic wasn't what he seemed. He was always smiling. He was always encouraging me, giving me hope and support, but when it came down to it, he didn't even support himself. 

I stood there silently dazing off into the distance as Carlile moved my arms to where he wanted them. Cold water rushed over my hands but I didn't look down. This felt so surreal. It was like I had stepped into a different universe where Vic was a completely different person. Did I even know him at all? He felt so genuine all the time and now I didn't know what to believe. 

There were dry tears on my cheeks and I couldn't help but think about how Vic would wipe them away and tell me everything was okay if he was here. He always made everything okay, and now when I thought about him I just felt cold. I couldn't get the image of him lying on the floor out of my mind. 

 

I looked down at the blood on my hands which was gradually coming off. Vic's blood. It was staining my skin. I needed it gone. I didn't move though. I let Carlile clean them. There was so much of it. It got on my bandage too. There was so much blood in that room. Too much... 

"Is he dead?" I could barely recognize the sound of my own voice. 

"I don't know," he said. That didn't compute well with me. 

"Is he dead?" I asked again. 

"Kellin," he said firmly and I looked up at him, "I do not know." 

He was the adult. He was supposed to have all the answers. He was the doctor. He was supposed to have the patient's best interests in mind, but he wasn't fixing this. His job was to fix this. He was supposed to make things better but nothing was okay right now. 

I looked back down at my hands. He took my bandage off to replace with a new one. I caught a glimpse of my cut. It was measly, practically nothing compared to what Vic did. I was so upset and did something small like this. I could only imagine how sad Vic had to be to do what he did. I couldn't imagine it. 

"I don't understand," I whispered. 

"These things can be difficult to comprehend," he said. He didn't even know the half of it. 

"But...but why...who is he?" I asked in confusion. It was mind blowing enough knowing Vic was going behind my back and talking to Carlile about me, but he was a patient too. A patient? Just like I was, but we were so, so different. How did he hide this from me? I thought we were close. 

"Let's go back downstairs so we can talk," he said. 

"I just don't understand," I muttered again. Nothing made sense. 

"Come on," He said when he was done with the bandage. 

He took my forearm and led me back downstairs to his office. I still felt like I was dreaming, or at least hoping I was dreaming. I wanted to wake up and for all of this to be a big lie. I wanted to wake up and go hang out with Vic in the recreation room playing stupid board games. But I couldn't wake up because this was reality. 

"We really need to talk about what just happened," he said once we were both seated. I had been looking at his desk but then fixed my gaze on him. 

"Is he a patient?" I asked. 

"Yes, he is. He has been on and off for a few years now," he said. Years? Vic has been going through this for years? And I looked like a total moron complaining about being here for a few weeks. 

"So...he's not a volunteer?" I asked. 

"No," he said simply, clearly. 

"And you...made him lie to get close to me?" I asked. 

"Yes," he said. There were so many questions going through my head but I couldn't focus on any of them until I know Vic is okay. 

"I want to see him," I requested. 

"That's not possible right now. We need to talk about this," he said. 

"Not until I see him," that was a demand. I wouldn't take no for an answer. Every second I spent not knowing how he was sent me into a wave of anxiety. I just needed to know. 

"Kellin, I don't-" 

"Let me see him," I cut him off, raising my voice, "Or I'll tell someone what you did." 

The threat was clear. What he did wasn't morally right, in fact it might even be illegal or at least enough to get him fired, I didn't know. I was angry at Carlile because a lot of this was his fault. He should have never put a patient who was supposed to be in the intensive unit through this. Vic should have been getting treated, not helping with treating me. 

"Okay, all right," he gave in with a sigh, "Let me take you back to your room and I'll go and see what is happening with him." 

I nodded. That was reasonable. I stood up and he followed after. He dropped me off at my room, closing the door after me. I was still stunned and so, so confused. There were so many questions. How? Why? What would happen now? I didn't want to think about the possibility of Vic being dead, but the thought wouldn't leave my mind. 

My gaze landed on the floor. Scattered there were the remnants of the blue, paper iris he had made for me. Tears welled up in my eyes once more and I fell to the ground. I picked up the pieces, instantly regretting destroying the one thing that reminded me of him. 

I just felt so guilty. I was guilty because I didn't notice Vic wasn't okay. I was guilty because he had helped me so much and I didn't return the favor. I was guilty because I told him I hated him. My words did this. If only I didn't say it then he wouldn't have done this to himself. It was entirely my fault. It was such a horrible thing to say. Words could cut so deep, deeper than any mark he made on his body. I will never forgive myself if he isn't okay. 

I sat there crying and crying for so long, or at least long enough to develop a headache. My throat was sore. My eyes were probably red and puffy. I thought I knew what true anguish was when I was brought to wanting to kill myself, but that was nothing to what I felt like right now. Nothing hurt more than the prospect of losing someone I love. I briefly wondered if this was how my parents felt when their son, who they loved, tried to end his life. How could I put them through that? 

I ended up sitting on the floor silently, clutching the ripped up pieces of paper. I couldn't think of what was going to happen next until I knew if Vic was okay or not. Thankfully Carlile finally came back. I looked up at him, absolutely terrified of what words might come out of his mouth. 

"He's okay," he said, and I felt the weight of the world lifting of my shoulders. 

I sighed in relief. I had never felt such a resounding surge of joy in my life. He was okay. He lived. I wanted to thank a greater power. I wanted to hug every doctor who saved his life. The brief happiness was cut short when I was brought back to reality though. This was still an upsetting situation. 

"Follow me then and you can see him, but only for a minute," he said. I would take what I could get. I got off the floor, leaving the paper behind, and followed him through the halls. We went back upstairs. I had only been up here today when Carlile bandaged me. It was a lot busier up here. It was the surgery floor, I think. Or the treatment one. I didn't know and I didn't particularly care. 

We kept going down the hall together and I glanced into every single room, hoping to see Vic sitting there, smiling, and chatting happily to the nurses and doctors. That was the only way I imagined him. I couldn't imagine him not being cheerful. 

Carlile stopped and I almost ran into him. He looked at me, sympathy and regret radiating off of him. He pointed to an open door. It took me a full ten seconds to work up the courage to just turn my head and look inside. When I did, I didn't get what I wanted. I didn't get the bright, cheerful Vic that I wanted. Instead I got a cold, sterile room and a boy, Vic, laying on a bed. He wasn't moving. It was like he was asleep. 

I held back my whimper. I was brought back to earlier when I walked in on his unconscious body. I took a deep breath and slowly walked into the room. I came closer then stopped at the edge on the hospital bed. I felt like crying all over again. He had an IV stuck into his arm. His face was just like that of someone sleeping. 

I knew I shouldn't have looked because it would have been too much, but it was like a car crash that I couldn't look away from. His thighs were uncovered. The deep lacerations were stitched up now. He would have these marks on him forever. It was painful to even look at. What was worse was that now the blood was gone I could see just how many other scars covered him. It was a horrible sight. I looked back up at his face, unable to handle it. 

"You're such an asshole," I whispered, "You're not allowed to do this." 

I could feel my anger rising. I just wanted him to wake up and explain himself. I wanted to know why. Mostly I wanted to know how he could so easily decide to leave me. 

"What does this solve, huh?" I snapped, "What does this even do? Nothing, you fucking idiot. It does nothing but give you these ugly scars and can't rid of them ever." 

No response. He gave no response because he did something so, so stupid to himself. I felt like a hypocrite. I wanted to end things too, but here I was coming to the realization that it was the wrong thing to do. There was nothing right about this. Absolutely nothing. It wasn't a solution. It was tragic. It was tragic that life had repeatedly pushed him to this when he was the last person on Earth who deserved it. He didn't deserve what I just said either. 

 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," I apologized through sobs. I was so, so upset, but once I knew that Vic was okay, I just got so angry with him. I hated him for doing this to himself. But, that was the thing, I also didn't hate him in the slightest. I loved him, but I didn't even know who he was anymore. 

"We need to go back downstairs now," Carlile. I forgot he was in the room with me. I turned around, nodding. I didn't want to look at Vic right now so I instead I followed the doctor. 

Once again we found each other sitting in his office, staring each other down. Now that I knew Vic was okay, it was time for some clearer answers. 

"Tell me exactly what's going on with you and Vic, from start to finish," I demanded. He nodded and began the story. 

He told me everything from how Vic had been in and out of this place since he was fourteen, but he refused to divulge me on why he was here. He says it wasn't his place to say exactly what was going on in Vic's head or what lead him to wanting to kill himself. 

He did however tell me that Vic is sick. He's mentally ill. He's depressed, and it's nothing like I thought my depression was. He tiptoed around the topic but I knew what he was getting at. I had a weak moment. I tried to kill myself on a whim and I was able to move on, because that's just what it was, a weak moment that I could get past. I wasn't mentally ill. Vic on the other hand was. He couldn't help how he feels. He couldn't help wanting to kill himself time and time again. He's sick. 

Carlile explained to me how Vic was in the volunteer's uniform because he was trying to escape the hospital. He told me how he made a deal with him to become friends with me and get me to open up to him. He said that Vic reported back to him with a lot of things that I had said, but assured me that Vic didn't feel right about it. Again, I was angry at Vic for breaking my trust, but anger was quickly shifting to Carlile. 

"Why would you put a patient through that? You should have been helping him get better but you did this instead?" I asked. I was shocked at how a professional psychologist could do this. 

"I know, I know it seems bad. I have been Vic's therapist for three years now and I've tried so many different tactics with him and nothing has worked a-" 

"So you gave up on him?" I snapped. 

"No, I did not give up on him. I was trying something different. I figured it might help him to socialize with other people like him a bit more since being locked up didn't help him in the slightest," He said.

"Yeah, well clearly that didn't work at all," I said. 

"I know!" He almost shouted. I could see the regret in his eyes. I could see he was desperate to help Vic but he did it in such a stupid way. 

"How did he even get that stupid scalpel?" I asked, and wasn't expecting an answer but I got one anyway. 

"Vic is very clever and sneaky. He pickpockets my keys all the time," he said. I guess that explained how we got outside. I was surprised Vic didn't make an attempt to escape though. 

"I just can't believe he lied to me so much," I said. 

"He did it with your best interests at heart," he said, "And trust me when I say that the friendship, or more than friendship, that you two had was real. I never told him to get that close." 

Maybe he had a point, but that was something I needed to hear from Vic. I just needed to talk to him. 

"I need to talk to him when he wakes up," I said. 

"I don't think that's possible," He said. 

 

"Yes it is. You let me see him just before, let me see him again when he's recovered," I said. 

"Kellin..." He paused, hesitating before continuing, "You don't need to be here anymore." 

It took a few moments to comprehend what he was saying. 

"What?" I asked. 

"You made the decision today not to hurt yourself further. I heard what you said to Vic upstairs. I know you don't want to kill yourself anymore. Vic even told me that." He said. 

"What...so...you're just going to kick me out?" I asked. 

"It's not kicking you out. It's letting you go and live the rest of your life," he said. The rest of my life without Vic? I couldn't just leave here without talking to him. 

"Please just...please keep me admitted here so I can help Vic just like he helped me," I pleaded. 

"We can't do that," he said. 

"Then I'll come back as a volunteer," I said. 

"Kellin, no. Vic needs to get better on his own. He's not like you. You had a low point and you got past it. You will be fine. Dany? He has a mental illness. He's been in and out of here since he was fourteen and-" 

"And I can help him," I cut him off, "Maybe I'm exactly what he needs to get better." 

"No, what he needs to do is learn how to stand on his own two feet by himself. He can't be too dependent on you. He needs to be independent. He needs to make the choice to be happy," he said. 

"Happiness isn't a choice," I snapped. 

"Okay, that was a bad choice of words. What I meant was, he has to decide to want to get better. In all the time I've known Vic he hasn't ever tried to get better. He stays here until we're not allowed to keep him any longer, then he hurts himself and the cycle begins again. I've been trying for so long to get him to put in the effort to take the right steps towards happiness, but he chooses not to. He chooses to give up," he explained. 

"Then let me help him make that decision," I begged. I needed to help him. I couldn't turn my back on him. Carlile shook his head. 

"If you're around then he'll only stop hurting himself for you. He'll depend on you, like he has been already. He was depending on you from the moment you two started spending time together, and the second you had a fight, what happened? He hurt himself. It's not a healthy relationship if you're constantly watching what you say and do to keep him happy. I need to teach him how to cope first. I need to teach him strategies to avoid wanting to hurt himself every time something bad happens. A relationship with you cannot save him. You cannot be here for his recovery," he said. 

Everything he was saying made perfect sense. I understood, but it didn't make this hurt any less. I wanted to help Vic, I really, really did but there was nothing I could say or do to make Carlile change his mind, and even if he did change his mind, I knew that me being here wouldn't be good. Vic needs to learn to get better independently, so I couldn't stay. 

"Can I at least stay to talk to him just once before I go, please?" I asked in desperation. 

"I guess I can hold off on releasing you for a few days," he said and that was good enough for me. 

I stood on the edge of the train tracks; the exact train tracks I tried to kill myself on just months before. My mind was a daze as I reminisced about what I once did to myself. I knew differently now. I knew better, and thinking about how I used to want to kill myself left me confused. I couldn't ever imagine myself being like that now. 

I was okay. Sure, I had my ups and downs, but doesn't everyone? There were days where something would upset me and I would cry for hours, but that's just normal. Everyone does that. It's okay to be sad about something. It's okay to hate life. It's okay in that moment to want simply disappear, as long as you never act on those thoughts. 

I could always get over my bouts of sadness because I knew it wouldn't last forever. I knew that the next day, or the day after, I would be my usual self again. I would be the happy, or more so, content self that I used to be. Things were okay, and I knew that they were when instead of feeling like jumping in front of the train, I let it pull into the station. 

My feet which had been glued to the station moved forward and I got onto the train, ready to go home. That's what I should have done in the first place, but if I had then I never would have met Vic. If I had then I wouldn't have fallen in love, but I also wouldn't have this hole in my heart that ached every time I thought of him for the past six months. 

***Six months earlier*** 

It had been three long, excruciating days being alone in my room. I felt so lonely without Vic's company, but I was managing. My mental health was getting better. I was still so upset over Vic though. He occupied almost all of my thoughts and I knew he wouldn't leave my head until I got to speak to him, but even then I knew he wouldn't leave. 

I still wasn't quite sure what to think about Vic. I still felt hurt because I had been lied to, but I found it so difficult to actually hate him, or even dislike him in the slightest. I still thought the world of him despite what he did. I really needed to talk to him to find out what was going on. Sure, I had Doctor Carlile's explanation, but I wanted one from Vic too. 

I didn't even know where he was or why it was taking me so long to see him. It had been three days. Surely he wouldn't have been unconscious for that long. It was so dull around here without him. I spent most of the few days in my room because it wasn't like I had anyone to talk to. I hadn't been bothered to make any friends because I always had Vic. I haven't been sleeping well either because I was so anxious about him. 

Finally, after what seemed like a million years, my prayers were answered and Carlile opened my room door. He never came here. He had a different volunteer, who I despised merely because they weren't Vic, bring me to his office on multiple occasions throughout the past few days. I spent a lot of time with the doctor actually. We had spoken a lot, and it was mainly because I knew Vic wanted me to open up to Carlile and get better, so I took that advice on board and made just as much progress in three days that I did in my entire stay here. It took me long enough to realize that he actually did want to help me. He wasn't just some evil adult who wanted a paycheck. He wouldn't be in this profession if he didn't want to help. 

"So, two things," Carlile started, "One, you're being released today." 

The news came as a shock. Sure, I knew I would leave soon, but it was still surprising when the words were actually spoken. It was official now. I was going home. Today. 

"I'm...I'm leaving?" I asked. 

"Yes. Your parents will be here soon to take you home," he said. 

"What about Vic?" I asked, "You promised I could talk to him." 

"Calm down. He was transferred back to his room yesterday. I wanted to get him settled before you speak to him," he explained. 

"Can I see him now?" I asked quickly. 

"Yes, that's why I came to get you. Are you ready?" he asked. 

"Yes," I said with a nod and stood up. 

"All right, come on then," he said and gestured to follow him, which of course, I did. 

The whole walk to the intensive section was nerve-wracking. I knew what I wanted to say to Vic. I knew what I had to say. I wasn't prepared for what he would say though. Would he be a broken mess? Would he be his usual cheerful self? I didn't know which one I wanted. A broken mess would be honest, but it would hurt so much to see. The cheerful Vic would be a lie. 

"Okay, listen," Carlile said firmly when we stopped outside a room. It was different to the one I had found him in. Of course, he probably didn't want to be in a room that he tried to kill himself in. 

"Before you go in there, Vic and I haven't spoken about you since before the incident, so he's not expecting you. I need you to be cautious of his mental state, but he also needs to know that you're leaving and understand why," he said. 

"Yeah, okay," I said with a nod in understanding. I could tread lightly with Vic. I wasn't mad anymore so it'd be easy to be nice. It won't be easy to say goodbye though. 

"I'll leave you to it then. Don't take too long in there," he said. I would take as long as I damn well wanted to, but I nodded nonetheless. 

Carlile left me there and I turned to the door. I mentally prepared myself before twisting the handle and opening it. I pushed it open. Sitting there on his bed in the corner of the room was Vic. He looked different. He was dressed in patient's clothes now and he looked so tired, but he was alive. 

He had been staring at a wall but snapped his eyes up to me when I opened the door. They lit up in an instant. They went from dark and empty to light and full in an instant. How could he transition so quickly? I stepped inside and closed the door, standing there nervously as he stood up, standing a few feet away from me. 

"Kellin..."He started out slow but that was quickly forgotten, "Hi, hey. It's so good to see you. You're still here though? I thought that you would have been gone. I mean I'm happy to see you and all, but I thought you were getting better. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll release you soon. There was this one time I knew this girl and she-" 

"Vic..." I interrupted him, feeling completely defeated because he went with the option to cover how he really felt. Every time he did that thing where he talked so fast, it was a lie, and it upset me so much because that was how he almost always talked, meaning he was almost always sad. 

The thought brought tears to my eyes. He was so, so broken and he hid it so well, but I could see it clearly now. It was heartbreaking. I moved forward and didn't hesitate before hugging him. His body was tense and unmoving, almost like he was scared. 

"You don't have to be fake with me. You don't have to hide how you feel," I assured him. Just like that I felt the tension leave. He sighed, his body relaxed and he hugged me back tightly. 

 

"I'm so sorry for lying to you," he said. I felt that twinge of hurt that I did every time I thought about him lying to me, but mostly right now I felt pained because of just how sorry he sounded. He really regretted it. 

I pulled away and held both of his hands. I led him over to the bed and we sat on the edge, facing each other. 

"Sorry for lying about what exactly?" I asked. 

"All of it...I had a lot of time these past couple of days to rehearse an apology over and over again...please hear it?" He asked. I was just glad he wasn't shutting me out or pretending that everything was okay. He was being open with me. 

"Go ahead." I said, looking into his eyes but he averted my gaze. He took a deep breath. It was so strange seeing him like this. 

"Okay...I am so, so sorry for breaking your trust. When Carlile first asked me to befriend you, I was thinking selfishly. He said that if I did it then he would let me out of here," he said, gesturing to the confining walls, "And I needed that, I really did, so I accepted his offer. And then you and I started talking and maybe the first couple of days I was just doing it because it's what I had to do, but then I started to love spending time with you, like really, really love it. I just felt so...warm and...and calm around you." 

He stopped talking but I felt like there was more. I loved hearing how I made him feel, because he made me feel the exact same way. He was so comforting, and I couldn't believe that I made him feel that way too when all I did was mope around, wanting to kill myself. 

"When I was with you I stopped thinking about sad I was and started wanting to help you," he continued, "I felt so bad about going behind your back. Please believe me when I say that. But once again I was being selfish. I knew that if I stopped reporting back to Carlile then he would make me stop seeing you and I couldn't handle that. It got to the point where I needed to see you every day. I needed to talk to you, so I kept up the charade and I'm really, really sorry that it hurt you. I'm sorry I lied to you...but I am not sorry for spending time with you." 

I was left reeling from the apology. A lot of what he said I already knew, or at least had guessed. Logic told me not to be mad. Logic told me that Vic wasn't being malicious when he lied to me. I understood, but when he was talking about needing to see me every day because he couldn't handle it if he didn't, it just reminded me of what Carlile said about Vic being too dependent on people. 

"I get it. I understand and I accept your apology. Please don't keep fretting about it anymore. What happened, happened, and yeah I'm hurt that you lied, but I got over it. I mean, it's still not okay...but it is okay," I said and he seemed to understand what I meant. He nodded slowly and fell into silence. So, I now completely understood why he lied, but I was still so unsure about the suicide stuff. I didn't know how to bring it up, but luckily for me, Vic did it for us. 

"Nine attempts and I've failed every one of them. Pathetic, huh?" He asked. His gaze finally connected with mine. I could see so much pain in them. 

"No," I said firmly, "It just means you're meant to be here. You're meant to live, like everyone is." 

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, "I thought you hated me." 

"I do not hate you. I never have. I know I said I did, but I didn't mean it at all and I'm sorry for saying that. I know if I didn't say it then you wouldn't have-" 

"Stop that," he cut me off, "Don't you dare blame yourself." 

I could see the fire in his eyes. I nodded, accepting what he said. I knew I shouldn't blame myself. Carlile and I had a few conversation about me blaming myself and he sort of convinced me not to, but there was still that thought in the back of my mind that knew this wouldn't have happened if I didn't go off at Vic. 

"Why didn't you tell me that you're..." I trailed off, not quite sure how to word this. 

"Depressed?" He asked. 

"Yeah..." 

"It's not something I like talking about," he said. 

"But I didn't even notice something was wrong. Not for a second," I said. 

"I'm used to hiding it..." he spoke softly. 

"Right...with pretending to be so happy and cheerful?" I questioned. 

"To be honest, sometimes I'm really cheerful because that's just who I truly am," he said, but I didn't quite buy it, but it felt like he was speaking the truth. 

"Is it? I'm not sure I even know you anymore," I said. 

"You do though. The Vic you saw is the Vic I want to be. Every conversation we had was real. Sure, the over-happiness might have been fake, but our conversations weren't," he said. That I believed. He was being so genuine with me. He was coming clean. 

He had been looking at my eyes, but once again looked away, almost like he was ashamed of himself. His thumb lightly brushed over my wrist, and I realized I didn't have my bandage on anymore. The cut wasn't deep so I didn't need it. His grip tightened around my wrist and he brought it up to examine it. 

"You did this? Why would you do this?" he asked. Anger was suddenly so clear in his voice. 

"I...I don't know." I whispered. Now I was the one who felt ashamed. 

"I told you, Kellin. I told you your skin is too flawless for this bullshit. You can't do this!" he sounded so mad at me. 

"You did it." I countered. 

"But you can't. You're important, Kellin. You're too special. Your life is too special to want to do this to yourself," He said. 

"So is yours!" I argued, practically yelling. How can he preach this when he was so, so much worse off than I was? Silence fell over us again. I had to leave soon and I wouldn't leave without at least trying to get something through to him. 

"Every life is special. Every life is important," I said. 

"Not mine," he said solemnly. 

"Yes, yours," I snapped, "Everyone's is no matter who you are. No matter how much you have or don't have. It matters." 

"Why though? I'm just another insignificant person," he said hopelessly. 

"If you think about it, so is everyone else on the planet. Everyone is just a person. If anyone were to die then the world would keep on spinning. We're all insignificant but that doesn't mean we should end our lives over it. We should live for ourselves," I said. I was finding it so difficult to get my point across, and that was mainly because it was so hard talking to someone who constantly rejects any little bit of positivity you give to them. 

 

"I get what you're saying, I do. It just...my life has never mattered that much to anyone and no one will care if I'm gone," he said. 

"I'll care. And besides, even if you think you have no one, you should live for yourself. Breathe for yourself. Live your life for yourself," I said and I truly believed every word that I said and was a little shocked it was coming from me. 

"Wow. You sure did a 180 from when I first met you," he said. I had. I had truly changed. But Vic? I didn't know if he could, or at least it was like he didn't want to. What even happened to make him feel like this? 

"Why are you here?" I asked. He looked a little shaken at the question. 

"Um...I uh..." he fumbled over his words. 

"Vic...please. I'm just trying to understand you." 

"I know...I know," he nodded, "But...I don't know..." 

"You don't know?" I asked. 

"Yeah, I don't know. I don't know why I feel like this all the time," he said. 

"How could you not know?" I asked. 

"I don't know. People come in here and say it's because of their parents or school or whatever...but I just don't know. My parents are okay parents. My school...I don't know. I never had a lot of friends but it wasn't that bad. I literally have no idea why I wake up every morning and want to die. I just look at my life and think it's pointless. I look at my future and see nothing in it," he explained. 

That just made me feel so useless. I wanted to help him get better but he doesn't even know what's wrong with him, so what could I possibly do to help? I couldn't come up with a solution no matter how desperately I wanted to. 

"Have you tried to get better? Like really, really tried?" I asked. 

"What's the point of trying? I'm always going to feel this way," he said quietly. 

"You don't know that." I said. 

He didn't say anything to that. I didn't know what else I could say. I had to say goodbye soon, I knew that. I couldn't make him better after one conversation, so I just had to try and leave us on a good note. 

"I love you," I said. His eyes widened, looking shocked at what I said. He knew I had fallen for him, but that was before everything that happened, so it probably came as a surprise that my feelings hadn't changed. 

"How? Why?" he asked. 

"I don't need a reason. I just know that I love you," I said. 

"But I'm...I'm like this," he said. 

"I know, and it's horrible. I'm not going to sit here and say it's okay, because it's really not. But I accept that it's a part of you. Just because you're depressed doesn't mean it's impossible for someone to love you," I said. I had to admit to myself that a lot of this pep talk stuff came from things Carlile and I have talked about. He had taught me a lot lately. 

"I'm not worth it. Kellin, seriously, you need to stop feeling like this because I'll just let you down," he said. 

"I can't stop feeling like this, just how you can't stop feeling like you do," I said. 

He seemed so scared. He let his guard down, obviously, and is actually letting me in and see him at his most vulnerable. I was so upset by what I was hearing. Depression was a dark, ugly, scary thing, but it didn't make me love him any less. It was like loving someone with a disease. Just because they're sick, doesn't take away how you feel about them. 

"Well...I love you too," he said and that brought a smile to my lips. I leant in and kissed him, but the kiss was bittersweet. I pulled away feeling sad, really sad. 

"Vic...I have to go," I said cautiously. I felt so sick saying it, but it had to happen. 

"That's okay. We can talk later," he said. Oh no, he didn't get it. This was so painful. 

"No, I mean...they're releasing me," I said. 

"Oh..." he spoke. His face dropped. He looked so disappointed. 

"So you're...you're leaving?" he sounded almost timid and it broke my heart. 

"Yeah..." 

"Okay, well...that's great for you. That means you're better. You can go home...live your life...that's great for you," he said. 

"Yeah, it is," I said with a small smile. 

"You'll come back and visit me though...right?" he asked. This was going to hurt so much. 

"I can't," I told him. 

"What?" he asked in confusion. 

"Doctor Carlile says I'm not allowed," I said. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears already. 

"So you're just going to leave? Just like that?" he asked. 

"I don't want to," I said. 

"Then don't. Please, Kellin. I need you in here," he begged. A few tears fell. I thought that walking in on him covered in blood was the worst thing I had ever witnessed, but him crying was a close second. It was painful. 

"Please just...please don't go. Wait a little longer. Ask Doctor Carlile to let you stay." he pleaded. 

"I can't..." was all I could say. My throat was sore from getting all choked up. 

"You can," he cried, "Just...blackmail Carlile. Tell him to let you see me or else we'll tell on him for what he did." 

I closed my hands around his tightly. He was on the verge of panicking too much. 

"Vic...I can't be here for when you're recovering," I said. 

"Why not?" he asked. 

"Because...Carlile explained something to me and I agree with him. He says you're too dependent on me and that you need to get better without me," I said, hoping he would understand. 

"I can't," he shook his head. 

"You need to. You can't just rely on me to be happy because as soon as we have a fight, look where you end up," I said. 

"I won't though. I won't do that anymore," he said and the amount of desperation in his voice was killing me. 

"I can't trust that. I sorry, but I can't. I need to know that you can get better, that you can choose to take the steps towards getting better on your own. I can't be here to influence that," I explained. He was crying now. Not just a few tears and whimpering from before, but full-on crying. 

"I want to stay. I really, really want to stay, but maybe one day you'll understand why I can't," I said. He nodded but didn't say anything, not that he really could through the sobs. 

I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around him. I pulled him close, hugging him tightly. It was so hard to say goodbye, and even worse for him. It was like I was walking away from him and I hoped to God that he didn't think I was giving up, because that was far from the truth. 

His body convulsed in my arms as he cried and we sat there for a really long time. He was always the one to make me feel better when I was crying. Oh how the tables have turned. I wanted to be here and protect him though. I felt like crying but I stopped myself because I wanted to be the strong one for once. 

Vic's crying had long stopped by the time there was a knock on the door. I knew it was Carlile hurrying me along even though he didn't come in. I pulled away and looked at Vic. He didn't say a word, just sat there looking sad. 

"I'm going to give my home address to Doctor Carlile. When he thinks you're ready, he'll give it to you and then I want you to come and find me, okay?" I asked. 

"That won't happen," he said in defeat. 

"It will...please, Vic, please try to get better. Don't keep acting as though your life is pointless and easy to throw away. Please just try to get better. Work with Carlile to get better. Please...do it for me?" I asked. 

He nodded slowly, "Okay. I'll try." 

I could see the doubt in his eyes, but this was still a tiny little step in the right direction. 

"I have to go now," I said. 

"I don't want you to," he whispered. 

"I know...I know. I'm going to miss you..." I said softly. He started crying again, unable to say anything. I pulled him into yet another hug, rubbing my hand along his back in an attempt to soothe him. When I pulled back, I wiped away his tears, just like he had when he first met me. 

"I know you can do this, Vic. I'll see you soon," I said. That was a promise that was now entirely in Vic's hands. He just nodded without a single word. I had to go now. Every second I stayed made it even harder to leave. 

I moved forward and lightly kissed his lips. He reacted, kissing me back softly. I had to go now. I pulled back, looking at him with as much love and adoration as I could muster up, and then I got up and left. 

When I got into the hall and shut the door, I let myself go. I let myself cry. I slid down against the wall, not caring that Carlile was a few feet away waiting for me. I cried and I cried. It hurt so much to leave him when I wanted to help him so badly. It was daunting not knowing when or if I would see him again. 

I was trying to be realistic. Yes, there was the hope that he would get better and come find me. I would always be hanging onto that hope, but then again there was always that chance that he wouldn't. There was that chance that the next time I see Vic, it'll be at a funeral. That was a thought I couldn't handle, but it was also a thought that I had to accept. There was a 50/50 chance of either thing happening and I prayed it was the first option. 

After my little breakdown in the hall, Carlile took me back to his office where my parents were ready to pick me up. This all felt so surreal. I couldn't believe I was leaving and I couldn't believe just how much I changed over my time here. 

The next half an hour I was on autopilot. My thoughts were stuck on Vic as Carlile talked to my parents about me. I snapped out of my trance for only a minute to tell Carlile to give Vic my address when he's learnt how to cope with his depression. He promised to do it, and I trusted him. They all signed some forms after that and I went back to my room where I was given some of my normal clothes by my parents. I changed, then I was being led out of the building. 

The moment the sunlight hit my skin I felt a sense of nostalgia. It felt like I had been in that hospital for years, not weeks. The last time I walked this path, it was when I wanted my life to end, and now I have a positive outlook on life. I had changed my ways. I realized that life goes on, no matter how hard it gets, you can move past it, and it will go on. 

I felt an overwhelming sense of pride in myself. I wasn't that broken, empty boy anymore. I was a survivor. 

I loved taking the train home from school. It gave me a while to be on my own where I could be at peace and get lost in my thoughts without people asking me every five minutes if I was doing okay. 

My time out of the hospital had been okay. At first it was difficult to get back into the swing of things and live my normal life, but it got used to it. The worst part was not being able to see Vic every day. He had been, hopefully, spending his time being independent and getting better. I had been doing the same thing. I was learning to be happy without Vic, and also without Matty. 

Matty and I attempted being friends for a little while, but every time I looked at him I was reminded of what I did and in the end being around him wasn't healthy. I was back at high school and the people around me were either really supportive, didn't understand at all, or acted as though they didn't care so they didn't have to deal with the weird kid who tried killing himself. My parents were being completely supportive of me too, maybe even a little overbearing at times, but I couldn't complain. 

Everything was going well...except for one thing. Six months and no Vic. I had mini freak outs where I thought that he was never getting better. I would go to a really dark place that was filled with the possibility of Vic ending his fight and giving up. At least I knew that he was still alive. I still had weekly appointments with Doctor Carlile who wouldn't say anything about Vic but constantly assured me he is alive and trying his hardest. That was what got me through the day. 

The train came to a stop and before I knew it I was walking down the street to my house. It was such a nice day today. I found myself appreciating life and every single day much more now that I was out of the hospital. 

I got to the front door, rustling through my shoulder bag to find my keys. I sighed in annoyance before finally clutching them tightly and pulling them out. I smiled in success then looked at the door. When I did, I stopped moving. 

Everything stopped; my breathing, the world from spinning, my heart. Right there, right in front of my eyes, stuck on the door was a white, crumpled up, but flattened out, paper heart. 

"No way..." I said under my breath. I had seen it before. It looked so familiar. My hopes were begging to go up, but I kept them push down in case it wasn't real. I reached forward and touched the paper. It was real. I wasn't imagining things. There was only one person who knew about the paper heart and that was Vic. 

With that thought, I rushed inside. I practically ran through the entire bottom floor, searching for any sign of him. After not finding him, I jogged upstairs. I went straight to my bedroom and stopped. Past my heavy breathing I could hear footsteps inside. There was someone in there. My heart clenched, but beat rapidly at the same time. 

I was a little scared and a lot anxious, but mostly excited. He was here. He had to be. So, I opened the door wide and sure enough, there he was standing in the middle of the room. It was Vic, but he was only half of what caught my attention. Every single inch of the walls were covered in paper hearts. Every last inch. My jaw dropped. It was such a beautiful and magnificent sight. 

My attention was back on Vic. He stood there smiling warmly, looking genuinely happy to see me. His eyes no longer looked tired and full of pain. I was absolutely shocked at his presence. 

 

"So, I've been thinking," he spoke, "Why have 1000 paper cuts, when you can have 1000 paper hearts?" 

I slowly looked around the room at all of the hearts. I was speechless. 1000? He made all of these? I looked back at him, my eyes darting up and down his body. He was here. He was right in front of me and that could only mean one thing. He's better. 

I snapped out of it and ran up to him, flinging my arms around him in a tight embrace. My body pressed to his and I didn't want a single inch space between us. I started crying. I was just so happy that he was here. I could feel him. I could feel his warmth. He was here, right in front of me. He was really here. 

"I thought I'd never see you again," I said into his ear. 

"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith," he said. I pulled back so I could look at him but still stayed close with his arms around me. 

"That's not what I meant. I just mean like, I don't know. Y-" 

He cut me off with a kiss. It was everything I had imagined it to be. I had been worried that his feelings for me would dissipate if he got better, but this kiss was anything but platonic. My stomach exploded with butterflies. He slowly pulled back I opened my eyes, looking into his. I couldn't believe it. 

"I don't even know what to say. Tell me everything," I requested. His hands moved up and down my back gently. I didn't think he wanted to let go either. 

"Well...you left and I took on board everything that you said. I put everything I had into getting better," he said. 

"And? How are you?" I asked. He smiled, and his mere smile was enough to make me feel at ease. 

"For the first time in a really long time I feel okay. I haven't hurt myself or had an overdose of anything like that since before you left," he said. 

"Really?" I asked. I was excited. This was such good news. 

"Yeah. I even have a signed letter from Doctor Carlile for you to prove it if you wanna see," he suggested, but I shook my head. 

"No, no. I believe you. That's so great, Vic. That's so, so amazing," I said. I touched the side of his face and ran my fingers through his hair. This was like a dream. 

"Yeah...I mean, I'm not going to lie. It was tough. It was really, really hard. There were, and still are, a lot of bad days. At the start it was all about getting better to go and see you. All I wanted was to see you and I obsessed over it, but after a while I started feeling a lot more, just...okay, and I realized that I didn't want to just get better for you, that I wanted to do it for me too. I wanted to keep feeling 'okay', and I figured that if I had gone from depressed to okay then I could eventually get from okay to good." He spoke as though he had rehearsed it, and I didn't blame him. God knows I've gone over things I've wanted to say to him over and over again in my head. Right now I couldn't remember any of them. 

"That's so great. I'm so happy you realized what your life was worth," I said. 

"You made me realize it," he said. 

"I did?" I asked. 

"Yeah. On the day you left I was too much of a mess to really realize it, but in the end I remembered when I saw you had cut your wrist. I just didn't understand how someone so perfect, so young, an actual human being like you could want to kill themselves. I was sad for you. I didn't want you to do that, and I later asked myself why, and other than the fact that I would miss you like crazy, I didn't want you to die because death is really, really not a good thing. It's not the right option. It's just not. I thought about how stupid I thought what you did was, then I thought about how it got better for you, and then I realized that if I thought that about you then why didn't I think that about me? I should have thought that about me, and so I did, and I decided to try and get better," he explained. 

I couldn't believe that something I said or did had such an impact on another person's life. It was such a heartwarming thought knowing that I could have such a positive influence on someone. It was so unbelievable to me though, but of course I believed every word that Vic said. 

"I'm just so happy you got through it okay," I said. 

"Mhm...well, it's not over yet. I'm still sick and every day is a battle, but I know how to deal with it now," he said. I smiled and nodded in understanding. 

"That's good. I know you can do it," I said. He smiled. I missed his smile more than anything. He truly lit up the room. 

"I missed you so much," he sighed. 

"I missed you too. A lot. I'm so sorry for not being there for you," I said. 

"You were though. Not physically, but I knew you were. I understood why you couldn't be there," he said, and that made me feel a lot better. 

 

I smiled and leant forward to kiss him. This just felt so right. I dreamt of this moment for six months. I was so relieved that I was elated. I was on cloud nine. I pulled back and he smiled, looking around my room. 

"So, do you like my redecorating?" he asked. 

"Yeah, I do. How did you even get in here?" I asked. 

"I'm sneaky like that," he shrugged. 

There were so many hearts and it meant so much to me. It was so symbolic of both of us. This was what started our connection. That day in the recreation room making origami was the first time I had felt hope in the hospital. 

"Did you make all of these?" I asked. 

"Yeah. They were a coping mechanism," he said. 

"They were?" I asked. 

"Yeah. The paper was the one request I made from Carlile. Every time I thought of hurting myself, or of just giving up, I'd sit there in my room and make these until the thoughts stopped," he said. My heart melted. He was truly amazing. 

"Wow, that's...a lot of hearts," I said, still looking around the room. 

"I had a lot of thoughts," he said with a small chuckle. I looked back at him. 

"So you're really okay now?" I asked. He smiled comfortingly. 

"Yeah, I think I am," he said. 

I just felt so relieved that he was okay. I was so happy that he was back. I hadn't felt so right in my entire life. I relished in the moment and put my head on his shoulder, hugging him in the paper heart room. Everything was going to be okay. 

***One year later*** 

A lot had changed with mine and Vic's relationship, but in a good way. We became closer and stronger with every day we spent together out of the hospital. We got to know each other more, we fell deeper in love, we became more intimate with each other both emotionally and physically. I had never known anyone like him. 

We were two boys who wanted our lives to end at seventeen, yet here we were, college roommates. Things on the most part were okay. Most days were perfect, filled with laughter and joy, but other days were at the opposite end of the spectrum, like today. 

It was the middle of the day and I was finished with my morning classes. Vic didn't go to his. I couldn't get him out of bed. When I returned to our room, he was still there lying in bed, awake, but unmoving. This happened kind of often and I understood that he had no control over it. 

"One of those days?" I asked, setting my bag down on the floor by the door. He didn't say anything, but nodded. I went closer and sat on the edge of the bed. I ran my fingers soothingly through his hair. I didn't like when he got sad like this, but again, I understood. 

"You want to go anywhere?" I offered. 

"No," he spoke quietly, "But you can if you want. Don't let me stop you." 

"I'm fine here," I said, getting comfortable on the bed. I kept slowly running my fingers through his hair. 

Don't get me wrong, Vic wasn't always like this. Yesterday was a good day, so was the day before that and the day before that, but there were a couple of times per month were there were days where he just shut down and I knew it was the disease that is depression eating away at him. It was something we both lived with. He dealt with it by going completely quiet, and all I could do was be here for him. The thing is, a day or two later he's back to smiling and being happy, which he genuinely was happy during those times. 

This was progress, believe it or not. Back when Vic first got out of the hospital he had days like this maybe twice per week, now it was twice per month. Instead of covering it with fake cheeriness like before, he let down his walls and let me in. There was no reason for the sadness. It could have been a tiny trigger that resulted in this. We just had to wait it out. 

The good thing was that each time this happened, Vic got over it quicker and quicker. He dealt with it easier. Every day was different. We just had to live in the moment and cherish the happy days. 

I was so proud of him. He had come so far. He had conquered so much and the fact that he has days where he cries all day, but still manages to get out of bed the next day with a smile on his face astounds me. He was my inspiration. 

I looked down at him, seeing his silent tears roll down his cheeks. 

"Hey," I spoke quietly. I gently brushed my fingers along the tears. 

"Did you forget or something?" I questioned. 

"What?" he asked. 

"Your skin is too flawless for tear stains," I whispered. 

He smiled and grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. 

"Thank you," he said softly. 

The truth is everyone has their dark moments. It might seem like nothing will ever be okay and that you can never imagine being happy again. But the trick is to latch onto every small, tiny piece of happiness, try your hardest, and never give up on the hope that one day you'll wake up and you'll be better. You'll be good.


End file.
